Page 73 of Someday Not Soon

She smiles, her hazel eyes seeming to flash even more green. “Let’s be crazy together then. Let’s do it.”

I take her face in my hands and kiss her like never before, excitement pulsing through me because our adventure is only beginning.

This next chapter of our lives took years—ten painfully long ones to be exact. But now, with her by my side again, I realize that every moment we have is a gift. A someday that finally arrived, not soon, but right when it was meant to.

Epilogue

Ella

Almost two years later

Today marksone official year of running a successful Pilates studio, which feels surreal, especially when I think back to the moment I first set foot in the space. After renewing my Pilates teaching certification, I walked into the empty commercial location next door to Little Elm. The walls had chipped orange paint, the carpets were a filthy gray, and it was nothing like what was needed for a workout studio. Yet, as I ran my fingers along the rough walls and breathed in the dusty air, a wave of certainty settled over me. This was it; this was the place.

Jude has been with me every step of the way—talking me down from mental ledges and giving me all the pep talks I needed. With the help of him and my best friends, we tackled the task of transforming the studio. The once atrocious orange walls are now a serene white, reflectingoff the new, expansive mirrors. Gauzy white curtains frame the windows, while green snake plants add a touch of life. The grimy carpets were ripped out, replaced by smooth wooden laminate flooring that shines under the soft lighting.

Business has been booming, with classes filling up faster than I can create new ones. It’s all thanks to Noah’s cousin, Marley, who ensured the studio got off to a busy start by spreading the word to all her dancer friends.

My career change and new venture have been absolutely terrifying in the most fulfilling way possible. But with Jude, Sherie, and my best friends in my corner, I proudly got it done.

Two years ago, if you had asked anxiety-and-grief-filled me if it would be possible to have both my dream jobanddream man, the answer would have been a resounding hell no.

My past self would be proud of where we are now though. I’ve stretched myself to uncomfortable levels, and the journey has been worth every challenge along the way.

Today, the studio is closed on holiday, and Jude also happens to have the day off, which is a rare occurrence as a business owner and E.R. doctor.

I’m making scrambled eggs, when he sneaks up behind me, his arms sliding around my waist.

Nibbling my ear, he asks, “You ready for our beach day?”

I press myself against him. He’s already hard, and Ilove the way that he’s still as infatuated with me as the first day we met.

“I am. But there’s one thing we need to do first.”

“And what’s that?”

Turning off the burner, I hop up onto the counter beside us, and spread my legs.

Without skipping a beat, he moves my panties to the side, dipping a finger in and arching an eyebrow when he feels how wet I already am. Taking out his painfully erect cock, he pushes inside me in one fell swoop—no less hungry for me than he was twelve years ago.

His thrusts are so powerful they nearly scoot me across the cool marble countertops. I hold onto him, kissing the delicate skin of his neck.

Lifting me from the surface with his dick still inside, he carries me to a wall, pressing my back up against it before pushing up hard into me again. “God, I love fucking you so much,” his deep voice rumbles.

I’m a simple woman; a good fuck and terms of endearment are all I need to get me off. My orgasm triggers his own, and we finish together, too drunk on endorphins to do more than collapse into each other on the kitchen floor. We lie there, half-naked and tangled up in the middle of the room, smiling like two damn fools as we catch our breath.

“NowI’m ready to go to the beach,” I tell him, curling up into his side.

His lips find mine, soft and affectionate, before he stands and extends his hand to help me up.

We finish our plates of eggs and toast before packingup the car and heading toward the coast. After long, hard days at work, a trip to the ocean feels like exactly what we need.

We set up camp past the crowds of people, walking as far down the shore as possible, until we reach our own little private nook between a space in the cliff formation. Every stress, worry, and insecurity melts away as soon as my feet touch the sandy ground.

The coast has always been our spot, then and now. Sometimes we lie in the sun-baked sand, reading books side-by-side, and periodically debriefing each other about how the stories are unfolding. Other times we hunt for crabs that dash between the sea anemones and large rock jetty that juts out between the sand and bay.

Today, we stroll along the shore, hand-in-hand, letting the waves lap at our feet as they ebb and flow, leaving trails of foam in their wake.

“Think we’ll find a narwhal this time?” he asks, squinting his eyes as he searches the water.

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