Page 131 of Dear Future Husband

Trey chuckled and nodded in confirmation.

“I wish the last twenty years of my life weren’t just gone.”

He inhaled deeply before he relocated the items between us. He pulled me up next to him, his arm snaking around my waist and my head fell onto his shoulder.

“Well, Mayhem, my wish would be to give you those twenty years back if I could. If I could change the past. But my promise to you now is I will make the next twenty years and forever unforgettable.”

I nestled into his embrace, wiping away the rest of my ebbing tears. “I know you will. You already are.”

We held to one another, watching the horizon of sailboats and cruise ships bob about. Seagulls screeched, and a family of five made camp not too far up the beach from us.

Really, what more could I want? Especially in a moment like this, my best friend by my side, on this perfect day.

It was a weird feeling I couldn’t quite explain. The incessant prickle of unease that I didn’t have a knownidentity outside of the last few months since waking up. I wanted to know it all, to know myself.

But I would be okay without the memories, with the gift of my journal, and Trey helping me every step of the way. I could still live a happy and amazing life without them, and I would.

“Alright, enough of my depressing crap. Feed me cake,” I demanded.

Trey chuckled and picked up the platter. He grabbed for his fork, scooping out a bite before holding it up for me. I moved to accept it, but he jerked the fork away at the last second. He smeared the frosting across my nose and up my cheek.

I gasped.

He bellowed with laughter.

In retaliation, I drug two fingers into the cake and streaked the blue sugary cream through his hair. Trey shot to attention, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

“Oh, you asked for it now, sweetheart.”

I needed no more warning. I was up on my feet and trying to haul ass.

Another thing I could’ve wished for: functioning legs.

I didn’t make it far before Trey was upon me and throwing me over a shoulder. I squealed as he trotted for the waves, splashing into the salty water as he plopped me on my feet.

I acted fast, cupping a handful of water, and splashing it up at him. He took it in stride. Shaking his head, his hair tossed the blue frosting away and the distraction was enough. I was too busy gawking to be ready for him grappling for me again. His large arm wrapped me up and pulled me deeper into the waves with him.

As the depth of the water grew, I had an uncomfortable realization. I latched onto him like a wet rat. “Uh, hey, just a thought, but I don’t know if I know how to swim.”

Trey stopped.

Granted, the water was only tall enough to reach his hips, but with the pursuing and pulling of the waves I didn’t want to take any chances. He adjusted me around his front, so my legs encircled his waist. His hands held me up under the skirt of my dress, cupping the bare skin of my backside. The act was hidden by the dark blue of the rocking sea.

“Well, if it means I can keep holding you like this,” he punctuated with a squeeze. “Then you’ll never learn how to swim.”

I swatted at him. The anxiety of drowning was soon forgotten as he held me above the waves and kissed me. A deep, gentle kiss that stole my breath, making me think that maybe drowning wouldn’t be so terrible if it felt anything like this.

When our lips parted, the taste of salt and cream mingling on our tongues, I brushed my fingers through his hair. Then placed a chaste kiss on his forehead before whispering, “Thank you for giving me my perfect day.”

Trey smiled. His eyes closed as he pulled me entirely against him and reconnected our kiss in a passionate flurry.

This wasn’t just a kiss, but a promise.

This was a vow that I discerned as a guarantee that I would get a lifetime of perfect days. Hand in hand, the sun on my face, with the man I loved, with all my heart, by my side, for every single one of them.

39 Remember

Maybelle