Page 121 of Dear Future Husband

The comment was so simple, so gentle, but from this boy’s lips, it was almost catastrophic. I’d never wanted to hold onto something so tightly yet run as far away as humanly possible. Everything around us had molded into a faded blur as I stared this boy in the eyes, warring with which instincts I wanted to follow.

My heart was pounding, scared, excited, curious.

My brain was racing, begging, screaming, running away. Terrified of pain, betrayal. Pleading that I would learn from the past and hide far away from any possibility of hurt.

But my soul… My soul seemed to know him. I can’t explain it, but a deep feeling in my chest was drawn to him. It cooed and whispered with the relief that it found sanctuary and a place to heal and call home.

I, unfortunately, followed the warnings, the fear.

How could I not?

It hasn’t been long since everything. I am far from healed and for the first time in years; I am safe. I am in a protected place where the past pains can’t reach me, where that man can’t touch me.

This bubble I’ve created for myself is lonely, but it is safe.

I can’t just throw myself back out into the fire of uncertainty with only the hope that the shattered parts of me won’t be charred to ash. I can’t dive headfirst into the unknown with only a prayer that I will come out unscathed.

So, when that boy told me I was pretty, I gave him a curt smile and then I ran. It’s been a few weeks now and Trey Turner has tried, oh he has tried to get my attention, speak to me, get to know me, but I just keep running.

I wonder if he will ever give up—I hope he won’t.

Maybe someday I won’t want to run. Maybe in the future, I’ll have glued all my pieces back together and maybe—maybe I will tell him I think he’s pretty too.

Maybe one day, he could be one of my picked flowers. Added to my minuscule bundle of gathered colors and smiles.

I hope. I really, truly hope.

Love,

Maybelle Mason

37 The Ambush

Maybelle

“You really haven’t talked to him in over a week?” Penny asked, sitting atop her bed, strung out on her stomach.

“Yeah. He’s been avoiding me since the banquet,” I said as I pulled my shirt over my head. Trey somehow managed to dodge me at the apartment and school. He did answer my texts with super basic replies but when I asked to see him, he left me on read.

At first, I was annoyed. Then I was hurt, confused, and frustrated—then I missed him. Trey’s absence in my life was carving out a cavity I couldn’t bear to leave hollow anymore.

And it had only been a week.

I hadn’t realized just how much of my day-to-day Trey had integrated himself into and I into his. The random calls most nights to talk about our days, his hard practices or my most recent find in the school library.

Each morning walk was quieter, lonelier, not finding a smiling Trey waiting on the other side of my door for me. Which didn’t help with my already paranoid feeling of being watched as I walked alone.

Trey Turner had woven his way into my heart and soul, and I was finally ready to accept it.

“But that all changes today,” I said, sliding my sneakers on over my socks. “Bear is on lookout at the apartment. He said he’ll text me when Trey gets home.”

The cinematically timed ping of my phone had Penny grinning at me. “Game time.”

In less than five minutes, I was at the apartment, powering over the stairs. I didn’t knock when I reached the front door. I burst right in. Trey was in the kitchen, his bag in hand, as he looked at me with wide eyes.

Realization quickly donned, and he slanted a betrayed look at Bear. The big man was smirking on the couch, with Gracie by his side.

“Really?” Trey groaned.