Page 91 of Dear Future Husband

I hadn’t lied to her when I promised I would walk with her every day, no matter what. Morning, night, rain or shine, I would be there… For as long as I breathed, Maybelle Mason would never walk alone again.

She emerged from her apartment, snicking the door shut. Her golden curls were fluffed haphazardly from a long night of sleep. She wore a white sweater tied low on her hips. It hung over attractive blue leggings that paired with her matching sports bra.

She spun from the door, eyes shimmering azure, witha bright grin taking up her entire face.

“Am I going to be spending the rest of my life waiting on you, May?” I felt my smirk mirror hers as I watched her freckled nose scrunch up at me. It took every ounce of my limited control not to grab her and kiss every damned freckle on her face.

“I couldn’t find my other shoe.”

Naturally, I peered down to see she wasn’t saying she had struggled to find her shoe but later found it and was now ready. No, Maybelle couldn’t find her shoe, so she now wore two different sneakers on each foot.

“You realize you could’ve worn the sneakers you had the matching pair for?” I asked, the timbre of my voice wavering on a chuckle.

She shrugged. “The thought crossed my mind, but not until after both shoes were already on my feet.” She brushed by me, her steps bouncy. “Come on, Turner. We’re burning daylight!”

“There isn’t any daylight to burn yet,” I grumbled under my breath, glancing at the stale blue of the waking sky.

Of course, Maybelle Mason was a morning person.

It would’ve surprised me if she wasn’t.

It only took me a few long strides until I was by her side, and we started on our regular, roundabout path. One that took across campus, through neighboring apartment buildings and right back here.

“How are classes going?” I asked.

She was biting the inside of her cheek as she focused on walking fast. She took cautious steps that wouldn’t bother her knee.

Couple mornings prior, she stumbled at the end of our walk trying to climb the stairs to her apartment. She bruised her knee. Maybelle didn’t leave her fallen spot on the stairs for at least ten minutes. She stayed put, fuming with frustration at the lack of control she had over her tired limbs.

I hadn’t said anything. I only joined her on the steps, allowing her to rest her head against my shoulder while I wrapped her up in my arms.

I still thought she was pushing her body too hard, but with each morning walk, I started to understand why she did it.

Maybelle was the embodiment of what it meant to live and not just survive. Even after the mess of losing her family, losing her memories, and her coma she wouldn’t sit still. She refused to let one day pass her by without progress, accomplishment and memories made.

Maybelle wanted to wake up, so she did.

Maybelle wanted to walk, and she did.

Maybelle wanted to run... And I guess you could call whatever the hurried, super jerky walk she did, “running.” Now, Maybelle wanted to sprint, make friends, go to college, create a name for herself and she would... She already was.

“What in the world even is algebra?” she finally griped in answer to my question I almost forgot about. “I don’t know if I’m dumb or what, but I’m screwed.”

“Have you tried finding a tutor or a study group?” I asked, as we slowed our pace.

“Yeah, I met up with some other students after class and I couldn’t follow a thing they said. They could’ve been speaking a foreign, dead language and I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

“Do you want help? Like a private tutor?” I asked, hiding the smirk that teased my mouth.

She didn’t notice.

Her eyes remained tracked on the path ahead.

“If you know someone, send them my way. I’ll take all the help I can get.”

Now my smile was on full display.

“Okay, I can fit you in on Sunday mornings. We can meet before each of your exams to make sure you are ready for them,” I planned while Maybelle side-eyed me.