One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)

Yoss put his hand on top of mine. Cold fingers wrapped around frozen skin. “That’s not true, Imogen.”

We stood there, staring at each other, and I wanted to give him what he asked for. My anger was gone. I had never been able to hold onto the useless emotion, much less when it was directed towards Yoss.

“Let’s go inside.” I inclined my head towards the door.

Yoss nodded and followed me back into the warmth of the hospital café. We stood just inside, neither of us moving.

Tell me a story, Imi.

Could I give him a story? Could I open myself up to him the way I once had?

An angry, obstinate part of me didn’t want to. He left me. Discarded. Thrown away. He let me wonder where he went. What I had done wrong. I was alone in my love for him. All alone…

Yoss pushed his hands into the pockets of his robe. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into a cup of coffee?” He tried to laugh. It didn’t quite work.

“You want a true story from me? Why should I give you anything that’s true, Yoss?” I asked him, forgetting for a moment that we weren’t alone.

Yoss’s shoulders slumped a little. He rubbed his newly grown beard. “You don’t have to give me anything, Imogen. I have no right.”

And it was his self-condemnation that shattered my resistance. That broke my heart and mended it.

This was Yoss.

And I was Imi.

That meant something.

He asked me for a story.

I had always given him one.

I’d give him one now.

“Come on,” I told him.

We walked quietly towards the elevator and I took him down to the sixth floor.

He gave me a strange look when he realized where we were, but he didn’t ask questions. Even though I knew he wanted to. I was glad. I wasn’t ready to give voice to what I was handing him.

Then tell me a true story. Something happy.

Sure, there had been happy moments in my life. Some more vivid than others. Meeting Yoss underneath the bridge on a warm summer evening, blood on my hands and tears in my eyes.

The first time he kissed me. How scared and exhilarated I felt when his lips touched mine.

The night we made love for the first time after the fire. With snow falling from the sky and grief on our tongues. All trembling hands and hot skin.

There were other moments too. The ones that came after Yoss. The day I graduated from high school. Making the Dean’s List during my first semester in college. Moving into my own house. Starting my job. Meeting Lee.

But there was one moment that trumped them all. Even though the ending was far from a fairytale, the brief instant at the beginning was one of the few times in my life I remember experiencing true, complete joy.

It had been different from the happiness I had felt with Yoss.

Different, but powerful. Profound in a way I knew I would never experience again.

We continued to move slowly, but Yoss was walking easier now. He still held onto my arm, though he no longer relied on me to support him.

“Hi, Imogen!” a nurse named Brittany called out. I lifted my hand in a wave.

“Is it okay to go back? We won’t be long,” I asked with a small smile. Brittany nodded and then noticed Yoss beside me. “We’re just taking a walk. Getting the blood moving. I figured he could use something cheery after looking at hospital walls all day,” I explained

Brittany grinned. “Enough said. Go on back. But just so you know, Maria’s on duty. You won’t be able to actually go inside. You know what a Nazi she is about germs,” Brittany laughed.

“We just want to peek in through the window. I’ll make sure not to anger the Kraken.”

Brittany snorted and hit the button opening the double doors in front of us. “Thanks,” I said as I led Yoss down the brightly lit corridor. The doors shut behind us, closing us in. The air smelled different here. Like baby powder and something sweet. I inhaled deeply.

Yoss gave my arm a small squeeze. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I just like to imagine how different my life could have been,” I admitted. I turned left and then stopped in front of a large window that looked into a lovely room painted in colorful swaths of blue and pink. A matronly woman with grizzled grey hair and a mole on her chin prepared a bottle at the counter, her back to us.

Yoss looked confused. “And that makes you happy? Thinking about how things should have been? How things didn’t turn out?” He seemed horrified.

I pressed my palm to the glass. “I like to remember when things seemed possible.”

I watched as Marie dabbed the formula from the bottle on the inside of her wrist before picking up a small baby swaddled in a blue blanket. He latched onto the nipple and began to drink.

Marie rocked him back and forth while he ate, patting his bottom the whole time.

My eyes drifted over to a little girl in the bassinet closest to the window. She wore a tiny pink and blue striped hat, her face scrunched up as she slept.

I felt myself smile. I couldn’t help it. Maybe I should have felt devastated standing there, staring at babies that weren’t mine.

But I wasn’t.