Page 54 of Dear Future Husband (The Dearly Written #1)

He led me to an area of sheer rock the waves clapped against and only a few miscellaneous people explored. I studied the leafy vines and pink flowers that climbed and wove themselves into the earth, and rock wall that cast a shadow onto the sand and—Penny?

Before I could ask or barely react, my best friend raced and collided with me. We staggered a few steps away from Trey, who smiled at the interaction.

“Oh, Belles! I’ll get out of your hair, I promise! I just wanted to make sure I saw you today and got to tell you I love you and happy birthday!” she squealed, and I almost choked.

My what?

My eyes darted after her wide-eyed, to Trey, still wide-eyed, and then to the quilted blanket Penny had been apparently sitting with.

Atop the blanket was a picnic basket, fancy glasses, and what looked to be a bottle of cider. Then a gorgeous blue cake frosted to say Happy Birthday with one candle in the middle.

Penny squeezed me one last time. “Okay, I love you, have the best day!” She released me then launched herself at Trey, who caught her embrace with ease.

“Gosh, I love you two! Okay, I’m gone!” And she was. She skipped off to a parked vehicle, up the way, and drove off.

I finally looked to Trey, who grinned. “I asked her to set this up for me and watch over it until we got here.”

I turned slowly to the setup, my skirt catching in the salty sea breeze and my curls dancing across my face.

“It’s my birthday?” I asked, not really knowing what else to say.

He grabbed the fabric of the dress at my waist, pulling me against him as he brushed back a curl. “Yeah. Are you upset I didn’t tell you? I knew you’ve been busy and probably forgot, so I thought I’d surprise you. Was that, okay?” he asked, in all seriousness.

I paused, biting down on the inside of my cheek.

Was I mad at him? No, not at all.

What was upsetting was that I didn’t remember my birthday. Just another reminder of how much of a stranger I was in my body. Another reminder that even after all this time, other people still knew more than I did about myself.

I shook my head.

“No, I like surprises. What’s in the basket?” I asked, gesturing to the picnic set up, not willing to depress his efforts under my own personal drama.

His demeanor brightened as he led me to the blanket. I followed his lead taking a seat on the quilt, the basket and cake between us. He pulled out—pop tarts.

I glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.

“With how many of these you and Williams eat, I thought you’d want nothing more.”

I shrugged. “Touché. Gimme.” And I accepted a packet of pop tarts. “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic, Turner.”

I broke a chunk of my snack off and put it into my mouth. I studied Trey pouring us both glasses of cider with a tight grin on his face.

“Well, then, you aren’t very observant. I’m very romantic and sentimental.”

I continued to watch my cheery boyfriend, instantly recalling many accounts when he was romantic. For goodness’s sake, he waited by my bedside for an entire year without hope that I would wake.

“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 him when 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 as before, 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? ”

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 known identity 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.