Page 130 of Dear Future Husband

“Let me rephrase. I didn’t realize you were so corny.”

This earned me a sidelong glance.

“You like corny,” he said as he handed me a glass, then took my other hand in his.

And that I did.

I took a sip of my bubbly drink, letting my fingers lace with Trey’s and relished in the way the sun warmed my face.

Realization donned. I looked down at our hands held together, the sun glowing against our skin, and Trey watching me with unrestrained happiness.

Before I could acknowledge the importance of what he’d done for me, he moved onto the cake. He pulled a lighter from the bottom of the basket, lit the candle, then held up the cake for me.

“Alright, make a wish.”

I studied him and the darling blue iced cake.

A wish. What more could I ask for? With Trey, Chelsea and all my friends, I had everything...

Except—one thing. I inhaled, then blew out the candle.

Trey plucked two forks from the basket, still beaming. “What did you wish for?”

I looked away, adjusting my dress. “Nothing, I have all I need,” I fibbed, and he snorted.

“Yeah, okay. So, what did you actually wish for?”

This man knew me too well. I refused to make eye contact even as he handed me a fork.

“I have everything I could ever want, except my—my memories,” I mumbled the last part.

His movements halted from what I could see at the corner of my eye. The world seemed to slow. Even the timing between waves crashing seemed to drag on.

After a few beats, I peered over at him.

He was watching me with the intensity I saw in himwhen he was trying to solve a problem, usually my problem. It was the way he’d looked at me, the time he caught me with the bruise on my hip and that bookcase toppled over. And when I snuck out of the apartment, the first time I visited. He looked at me as if he thought long enough, he could come up with a solution that would keep me safe from anything and everything.

Sadly, this wasn’t something he alone could fix. Nothing could save me from the harsh reality that was my circumstance.

“I didn’t realize you cared or wanted your memories back. You seemed so content just moving on. Especially after learning about what happened to, you,” he said as one of his hands moved to grasp the top of my knee.

“Eh—I didn’t before. Especially because of the family I lost. Seeing how much Liam and Stephanie’s deaths affected you all, I didn’t want to know what that felt like. And, yes, the dark past intimidated me, but there’s been a part of me that feels like a stranger in my skin. The other day, I noticed I have a scar on my thigh right here,” I said, hiking my skirt up to show off a quarter’s length, pale pink scar.

As if it was instinct, Trey’s hand moved so his thumb could sweep across the mark.

“I had no clue where I got that. Luckily, I wrote about it in the journal. Some girl had acrylics on in a basketball game I played in. She went to swipe the ball from me but took a chunk out of my skin with her fake nail instead.”

I pointed to a long, thin scar in my shin. “I don’t know where this one came from, and I noticed an old scar above my brow right here.” I put my forefinger to my head blindly. “It’s so old I bet I got it when I was little. Maybe I fell downstairs or something. I wouldn’t know, though.”

I dropped my hand and turned to look out at the beach. Trey’s fingers quickly pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. He wasn’t smiling half as much asbefore, but a slight smirk still tugged one side of his mouth up. Showing off the ghost of a dimple. His hand moved to cup the back of my neck, bringing me forward until his lips pressed into the aged scar on my forehead.

When we parted, he dropped his forehead to mine.

“I didn’t even know my own birthday,” I whispered, and the hand on my nape flexed.

“I know, May. I’m sorry,” he breathed.

I shook my head and pulled away just far enough to look at him. “Don’t you dare be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re perfect and one of the main reasons I have little to want. You make my life better,” I coughed out on a half laugh, half cry, shocked by the sudden flood of emotions. “I just wish I knew more. That the last—oh god, I’m twenty years old, right?”