Page 148 of Not Another Yesterday
He shakes his head. “I’m serious, Ran. I want it all with her. I want to make her my wife, have a whole football team of kids. I want to grow old with her by my side and die surrounded by fifty grandkids.”
“Well, great, get started then so my kid can play with your kid.” It feels strange talking about Shane’s and my kids playing together.
Shane chuckles, but something in his face shifts and he sobers. “Actually… I’ve been meaning to show you something.”
He climbs out of the passenger seat and heads toward his Jeep. I follow him, then watch as he pops open the glove box. When he turns back around, he’s holding a small blue box.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” I say, staring at the thing like it might explode.
He swallows, then flips open the lid to reveal a diamond-encrusted ring, the smile stretching across his face half-nervous, half-giddy.
“I’ve been trying to figure out the right moment to ask her,” he says, his voice suddenly quieter. Reverent. “You think I’m rushing it?”
“I mean, I don’t think I have any right to tell anyone that they’re rushing anything,” I say with a quiet chuckle.
I look at the ring, then him. He’s holding the box like it’s the most precious thing in the world, and I realize he isn’t just holding a ring. He’s holding a future with the girl he loves.
I study him, his love for Tori practically tattooed on his face. Fuck, I still remember the moment I introduced them to each other… “That being said, no,” I continue honestly. “Not when it feels like this.”
“Thanks, man.” He closes the ring box before safely storing it in his glove compartment. “How about you? Any intention of asking Cat to become Mrs. Soult? Seems logical given—”
“The fact that she’s spawning my child?”
“Those weren’t theexactwords I was going to use, but… yeah,” Shane laughs. “So?”
I exhale slowly, feeling the weight of that question settle in. “The thing is… if I asked her now and she said yes, I’d always wonder if she only said yes because she felt trapped. She’s having my baby, Shay. And her dad’s already made it blatantly clear that I should ‘make an honest woman out of Cat,’” I say, making air quotes. “And Cat would probably think the same of me. That I’m only asking her because I feel pressured to. I don’t want that.”
I glance at Shane, seeking his understanding.
“If I ask her to marry me, I want it to be because we bothwantthat future, independent of all the outside noise.”
He nods. “I get that.”
I lean back against the side of his car, staring up at the sky. “The last thing I wanted…wantis to repeat history. And sometimes… it feels like I’m already on that exact same path. It scares me, Shay. It’s like even though I see myself barreling toward the edge, I can’t fucking stop it.”
“You’re always so hard on yourself, Ran.” Shane’s voice is gentle now, without sarcasm. “First of all, shit happens. Cat was on birth control. It failed. That’s not some moral failing on your part. And second, Iknowyou’re not your mother. Or your grandfather. You’d never hurt Cat. Or your kid. You just don’t have that in you.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong. I do have it in me. I’ve been in situations where I’ve seen nothing but red, Shay, and—”
He cuts me off. “You mean Adam? Dude, that wasn’t you losing control. That was you defending Cat. You weren’t the god damn aggressor here. You didn’t just beat the shit out of him because you thought it was fun. You wouldn’t have so much as touched a hair on his head if he hadn’t come for the person you love most in this world. Twice! You’re not your past,” he says, softer now. “Stop looking at every new day like it’s yesterday. It’s not. This is your tomorrow, Ran. You’re already building it.”
***
Shane and I take our separate cars home.
This new car is still so unfamiliar. I don’t know what to do with my right hand now that the transmission’s automatic, so I just let it rest on the shifter like it’s lost all purpose. Might as well amputate it.I don’t even use my right hand to jack off. The engine doesn’t roar to life the way my Mustang used to. It just… hums awake when I press the button. No key to turn. Not to unlock the door, not to start the engine. Just that dumb little fob sitting in the cupholder, as useless as my hand on the gearstick.
It smells clean. New. Like it hasn’t lived yet. No sweat or spilled drinks or spicy backseat memories clinging to the upholstery. No character. I can’t even tell if this car’s a he, a she, or an it.
And it’s white. Not sexy satin-black. Not even a sharp electric-blue or deep steel-gray. Just… white. At least the interior isn’t beige. God, I’d have fucking died.
It takes me a solid minute to find the button for the parking brake—of course it’s a button—and by the time I climb the stairs to our third-floor apartment, Shane’s already inside, the door unlocked behind him.
We don’t bother with the lights. I could navigate this place blind by now, it’s so familiar. Honestly, it feels more like home after nine months than my dad’s house ever did.
I rinse the day off in the shower, quick and mindless, then brush my teeth in the dark. I have no problem with it, with shadows, with silence. They keep you safe. Noise, light? Those only drew unwanted attention, made my mother realize I was around to serve as her punching bag. So I learned to become invisible.
My bedroom’s just as dark, just as quiet. I close the door behind me with a soft click, sealing off the rest of the world.
