"Nothing to worry about."
I hugged them and left.
I'd never see the inside of Jenny's house again. And I'd never see Jenny's kids again.
I'd never even make it to her viewing or her funeral.
By then, I was gone.
Tomorrow.
I forever told myself tomorrow. Everything would happen then. The easiest crutch to hold onto and believe in. Everyone was so used to tomorrow coming that when it didn't, they were shocked and saddened. And when tomorrow did come, it was just taken for granted. For me, there was one day on the calendar when tomorrow scared me. And that was indeed tomorrow.
A day that revolved around a decade's old promise. When two hearts tried to stay together but were forcefully ripped apart. A promise that we'd meet again at the same spot. That we'd pick up where the romance left off and life would be easy. Life would be fun. Life would be good. What we didn't know back then was what time would push between us and how hard traveling through time would actually become.
Then again … it was all waiting for tomorrow.
And, yes, for nine years straight I made sure to have plans on that date. I made sure to be far away and busy and distracted so I could try to shave off some of the guilt. Last year I was on a tropical island as Kyle drank a lot of tequila, got drunk, did cartwheels naked on the beach, and even made out with the bartender that kept serving him drinks. I caught him kissing her and I felt nothing. He broke the kiss, grinned, and she offered for me to join. That wasn't my bag, though. I left him there and never asked what happened after that.
For nine years, I made sure anything that resembled reality did not exist.
Only now there was a big difference.
I had nobody to distract me.
I had no job, either.
And the person I made a promise to tell the story to was now gone. I wasn't sure about the whole heaven and hell thing, but if Jenny was spiritually somewhere, able to watch over me, then she'd see the story come to life.
I stayed up too late, got up too early, and drank too much coffee.
I packed two bags and carried them, along with years of memories, and left my apartment.
I was going to keep my promise.
Tomorrow had become today.
And today I'd see the only man I ever truly loved.
River
ALMOST TEN YEARS AGO
I sat there, naked, and fished a smoke out of my jeans. I lit it up and blew smoke into the air of the old house. I had no idea who owned the house but we all partied and squatted there when we needed to. Maybe it wasn't the most romantic place for someone to experience their first time, but it was all Lacey and I had. I made sure to bring a couple sleeping bags for cushion and I did steal a rose from the convenient shop. I looked over my shoulder and saw the imprint of her in the sleeping bag.
She was fantastic. Fucking gorgeous and beautiful. Everything I could have ever imagined in a woman. And trust me, she was all woman. It wasn't just her age that dictated that, either. I was old enough to buy booze, finally, and Lacey was just a couple years behind me.
It amazed me she waited that long and then gave it up to me. I already had years under my belt, but most of it was all regret. I'd never regret Lacey, though.
By the time I finished my smoke, Lacey came walking back into the massive living room of the abandoned farmhouse. She was pulling her hair back, her hair clip between her lips. I had reached back and torn that clip from her hair. I loved her long hair. That sexy, dirty-blonde color that needed nothing more. Not like these other chicks who colored their hair, adding stripes and highlights and all that bullshit. Lacey was just herself. From the day I met her, she was the realest thing in a world that was all fake to me.
She was wearing her panties and her shirt. Her pants were balled up on the floor, thrown where I had put them. With her arms up and still playing with her hair, she looked delicious.
I stood up, my bare ass facing her. I grabbed my jeans and stepped into them, then turned, and she had her hair all fixed up again. She walked right to me, her slender hands sliding against my arms. The heat between us was insane. The house smelled of dust and age, but the closer I got to Lacey, the more I could smell her sweet skin. Her soap, her shampoo her perfume.
I stroked her cheek and gently kissed her.
"River," she whispered. "That was amazing."
"It gets better with time," I said. "Whenever you're ready again, I am."
Lacey smiled. Her cheeks blushed. It was cute to me that she could blush by my words when I had just seen all of her. When I had touched and tasted all the most private and intimate of places on her body.
We kissed again, our tongues touching. The lust was raw. So fucking raw.
Lacey broke the kiss and looked up into my eyes. "Can I try something?"
"Anything you want."