Lemon Crush

23. Wade

23

WADE

The Saturday morning we gutted the bug didn’t go the way I thought it would. August had planned to keep me company for it, but while we were getting dressed, Gene called and told her he and Lucy were dropping by to pick her up. A friend of his with a track membership had volunteered to take her and Bernie out in his racecar. A step up from the go-karts she’d finally been getting the hang of.

She’d been torn, but I convinced her it was a good idea, and that I wanted her getting as much experience in her gear and at the track as she could before the race. What I left out was that I didn’t want her to see this part. She might be fine with the end results, but getting there would be messy and the car still meant something to her. I wasn’t looking forward to it either, or spending the day with no one but silent Rick beside me as we tore the VW apart, but I’d manage.

Two words : If. Only.

The minute I walked in the door, Kingston was waiting with his camera and an endless supply of questions. Five minutes later, Chick showed up with Rick to “help,” in a pair of white pants I highly doubted would survive the day. At least Dalton was on hand to balance things out, while getting his first taste of what being the mechanic for the team would require.

If I had to title this day? I might call it The Gut Punch. It felt appropriate.

“Why are you removing the driver’s seat?” Kingston asked, his hand cam aimed over the open door to get footage of us disconnecting the seat heaters I’d installed. “Won’t you need it for the race?”

I pulled the seat out and hauled it over to the floor space we’d designated for salvage parts. “One, we need the room to work in here, and two, it’ll have to be replaced with a lightweight racing seat with the proper openings for the harness.”

“What’ll you do with everything you take out?”

“Sell it, if it’s worth anything. We can’t sell spare parts to recoup the cost of the car or mission-critical parts to upgrade them, but we can sell whatever we want to pay for safety gear and other equipment.”

When I popped out the backseat bench, Chick was there to grab it out of my hands. I glanced at him in surprise, then nodded before ducking back in to unbolt the backrest.

“Won’t taking out the backseat make it really loud in there?” Kingston asked. “And hot? I mean, won’t the engine be right there in the passenger compartment?”

I shook my head. “There’s a firewall built in. Plus, the drivers will be wearing helmets with mics, so hopefully engine noise won’t be an issue. And they’ll use a cooling suit system to keep from getting overheated.”

I handed the backrest to Chick and then grabbed a plastic bag. Sitting on the yellow frame, I unscrewed the window crank, door handle bowl and armrest while Rick did the same on the passenger side.

Kingston crouched to get a closer shot of my hands. “If you told me about everything you’re doing as you do it, I wouldn’t have to ask a bunch of stupid questions.”

“I’m a mechanic, not a narrator.”

“And I’m making a documentary, not a silent movie.”

After we’d dropped all the parts into the bag, I sealed it and handed it to Chick with instructions to label it, then pried off the panel with the screwdriver to reveal the door’s interior.

“Can’t you do voiceovers later or something?” I grumbled as I pulled off the springs that had held the panel rigid.

“We’ll do some of that too, but the whole point is to experience it from your point of view, not mine. Where’s August, by the way? I thought she’d be here for this.”

“He wants reaction shots of her watching her mother’s car stripped for parts.” Chick sounded mildly disgusted. “I thought you were interested in a feel-good story instead of trauma porn.”

What he said.

Kingston ignored him but changed topics, continuing to pelt me with questions about the car while we removed the side and the rear windows, stereo system and speakers, headliner and carpet. Every now and then, Chick would offer suggestions for shots and ask questions of his own, which didn’t earn him points with the director. At some point late in the morning, after we’d gotten most of the hard work out of the way, Dalton disappeared for ten minutes, showing back up with Wanda in his arms and another puppy in a sling across his chest.

“Bonding break,” he announced.

“What the hell?” Kingston muttered, lowering his camera for the first time in an hour.

When Dalton went to hand Wanda to Chick, I stepped in and grabbed her. Fine, so I was feeling a little possessive about my girls. Both of them. “Can’t you see the man is wearing white pants?”

Dalton looked mystified, but Chick held up his hands and backed off. “It’s fine. Obviously, he needs her more than I do.”

That was how I wound up in more of a supervisory role for the rest of the morning, cradling the sleeping puppy in my arms while Kingston pumped me for in-depth information about how I’d modified the car.

“The engines are interchangeable,” I told him for at least the fifth time.

“Keep talking,” he said, prowling around me and angling his camera to ensure the VW was in frame behind me.

“The Porsche and Beetle?” I continued impatiently. “Same designer. It’s not always the case but, depending on the model, it usually doesn’t take much in the way of modifications to make the switch. I got the right engine in trade from a client with a car collection and ‘fuck you money’ a few years ago, so I made it happen.”

“ Fuck you money?”

Chick smirked. “Picture enough money to wipe your ass with if you feel like it. Because fuck you.”

He would know.

“But why put it in this car?” my tormentor pressed. “You said you were restoring a classic, but today we’ve discovered that not only did you swap in this killer engine, you also installed a satellite radio and seat warmers, as well as a few extra bells and whistles that would make it unsellable to the average collector.”

“Don’t forget about the upgraded suspension, drive train and brakes,” Dalton piped up from his workbench.

I growled under my breath. “Why not this car? The owner didn’t want to sell it or show it, she wanted to travel in comfort and safety, so I restored the look of the old car while improving its functionality. I’m not sure what’s so hard to understand about that.”

Years ago, Sam’s husband had asked me to hunt down a VW that was the same make and model of the car she’d first come to Texas in, as a present for what would end up being their last anniversary together. When she’d moved back to the area, I’d spent more time on it than I strictly needed to. Little improvements here and there—occasionally big ones, like the engine—making sure it was in good shape for those road trips she was always taking.

I let her think she was doing me a favor. That I was working on Jiminy for “practice.” It was my way of paying her back for always being there when I needed her.

“It’s basically a Porsche camouflaged as a bug.”

Kingston nodded at Dalton. “I like that. I can use that.” Then he focused on me again. “It was a lot of time and expense for you. And now everything but the engine has to go.”

I tried to stop my jaw from clenching. “That’s what you’ve been filming for the last few hours. Practically everything but the chassis and what’s under the hood gets torn out to lighten the load and make room for the roll cage. In an endurance race, you also take out anything that might tax the engine and slow the car down.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

When Rick snorted behind me, I was finished. “I feel like we’re done here.”

Kingston lowered the camera and met my gaze. “Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth with you.”

“You wanted a professional mechanic’s take on the process. I gave it.”

His smile was hard. “You’ve been stomping around like an angry bear with a therapy puppy in your arms while your favorite car gets stripped. That’s not professional.”

Wanda started rooting around and I tucked her against my chest defensively. “This is my professional garage. And the vet said bonding time and socialization are important. Dalton is doing it too.”

Dalton turned away from his workbench, rubbing the wiggly sling across his chest. “I’ve been taking turns with the others for the last few days and they all seem to love it. Do you not like dogs, Mr. Haywood?”

“You’re being obtuse.” Kingston sounded aggravated.

I was pretty damned aggravated myself.

“The trials of the serious filmmaker.” Chick sighed mockingly. He was taking a break on a stool, his short-sleeved blue shirt and white pants still miraculously dirt-free, though his face and arms were glistening with sweat. “He’s so busy trying to force dark moments and profound reveals, he can’t see that the grumpy mechanic clutching a sweet, helpless puppy is already telling the audience the story he’s refusing to share.”

It was? What the hell was it saying? Shit.

Kingston narrowed his eyes on Chick. “I’m getting to the truth. I’m aware that’s an unusual concept for someone with your unique skillset, but I can’t spend hundreds of thousands on special effects to distract from bad acting and lazy writing.”

“Lazy?” Hot anger flared on Chick’s usually genial face.

“That’s what it’s called when a good writer phones in his scripts for a payday.”

“What’s it called when someone’s last documentary was praised by a reviewer for literally making them ‘vomit from sadness’?”

“Reality,” Kingston said flatly.

“Okay, that’s enough.” I held my free hand in the air, wishing for a whistle. “I’m calling it. Filming is over for today.”

“Hey Chick,” Rick called. “Dalton’s got his hands full of salvaged parts and puppies. Come help me haul these seats to my truck.”

I shot him a grateful look because, yeah, it was time to separate the high-maintenance creatives so we could actually finish this part of Jiminy’s transformation at some point today.

To give Chick his due, he didn’t hesitate to hop off the stool and lend a hand. He’d actually been a bigger help than I expected, and was pretty sturdy for a rich, West Coast leprechaun, picking up one of the seats with ease.

“What’s the idea with that?” I asked as Rick picked up the other.

“Lucy wants them for his man cave. Did you call dibs?”

“No, I did not.” I’d purchased and installed them myself, and they were supposed to be sold to help pay for the roll cage, but who gave a shit about anything? Not these fuckers.

“He said he’d pay fair market for them,” Rick added.

And now I was the fucker.

I’d been one all day and I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to care enough to stop. After that conversation with Morgan, I’d pretty much given up hope of keeping August until she’d handed me that bottle of truth water and agreed to share a bed with me every night, until and unless . But since then, I hadn’t seen her for longer than five minutes at a time, except when she was unconscious from exhaustion. She seemed happy whenever we did run into each other. Happy and busy.

She was doing yoga with Chick and Bernie. Working in the office at the icehouse or behind the bar. Writing stooped over her laptop for so long I felt compelled to give her back rubs in bed. The kind that led to sleep instead of sex.

I missed her and it was getting to me.

I pulled off my cap and blew out a hard breath, wiping my forearm across my sweaty forehead. “I need a break. I’m going across the street to grab a drink and cool off.”

“I’m with you,” Rick said.

Dalton raised a hand. “I second that emotion.”

“Perfect.” Chick nodded thoughtfully. “There’s something I wanted to show you all anyway. And a drink might help it go down easier.”

While they headed across the road to Hudson’s Icehouse, I went to my office to drop the pup off with her mother. Hopefully I could convince August to take her by the time she was officially weaned—I’d been bringing home pictures of the puppies, this runt in particular, and watching August fall in love with her.

“She looks like a Wanda.”

Another witch name. Why was I not surprised?

If she was anything like her dam, Wanda would be a quiet, sweet beauty, and August would have a puppy of her own for the first time. Whether she stayed here or not, I wasn’t sure how much longer Merlin would be around, and I didn’t like the idea of her being alone. Not if I could help it.

Kingston followed me into the office. “Care to share what crawled up your ass this afternoon? Other than August having fun without you, that is.”

Crouching by the huge dog crate that took up half the floor, I laid the pup with her dozing mother and latched the gate, then rounded on him.

“What crawled up my ass? I’ll give you a hint. He was named after the place his dad got laid for the first time, and he keeps interrupting my work to get me to talk about my feelings for the camera. That is, when he isn’t busy trying to pick a fight with August’s closest friend for no reason I can see.”

Kingston frowned. “Dad only says that to tick me off. And Chick was backseat directing. I’m not sure why he came today. Who wears white pants to gut a car?”

I laid a warning hand on his shoulder. “I’ll admit that was a choice, but so is what you’re doing. Enough, okay?” I lowered my voice. “You’re right. We haven’t seen much of each other and I was hoping she’d be here, but I’m glad she took the extra chance to train. We’ll catch up later.”

She said we’d make time. I needed to hold her to that.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was use your words. ”

I squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t push it, smartass.”

The icehouse was back to full staff and we got our beers within minutes of being seated. We’d managed to snag a round table big enough for five that was right underneath a fan, so I set my cap on the table and leaned back with a sigh, savoring the cool breeze.

“What did you say to him, Kingston?” Chick asked. “He looks worse now than he did before.”

“He’s bitchy because his girl’s spending the day somewhere else. He was probably hoping for sex in the office.”

I gave him a dirty look. He wasn’t wrong, but I’d rather be crushed under a hydraulic lift than air out my problems to a bunch of gossipy busybodies. Or tell them we’d already lived out that particular fantasy weeks ago.

“Wade knows her driving lessons are more important than revving his engine,” Chick said.

“Damn straight,” Rick agreed before taking a swig of his beer. “Plus, the last thing a man needs is for the woman he’s into to see him crying like a baby over the loss of his favorite toy.”

I hadn’t cried. And I’d worked on that car for Sam, not my own gratification. “Fuck off.”

“He’s been leaning into his inner grouch for days now,” Chick said, peeling the label off the sparkling water he’d brought along.

“You haven’t seen my grouchy side yet,” I warned him.

“We all have,” Kingston countered. “Because there’s nothing inner about it.”

Chick snickered and took a drink. “From what I hear, I doubt it could be any louder than his frisky side. It’s a good thing I brought my headphones on this visit.”

Rick leaned his forearms on the table, studying me with renewed interest. “That escalated quickly. Gene was practicing a ‘ before you mess with August’ speech for our next get-together, but Morgan told him he was too late.”

“It’s none of his business. Or yours.”

“She’s Morgan’s sister,” Rick said as if that settled the argument. “That makes it all of our business.”

“Her grown-ass sister doesn’t need anyone warning boys off of her porch with a gun.”

“Thank you, Kingston,” Chick said.

“I do own a lot of guns,” Rick added casually.

I was aware. And according to Gene, no one was a better shot.

“That took a dark turn,” Chick said with amusement instead of trepidation. He’d learn.

“He also has a speech for August,” Rick continued, volunteering more information than he had in the last six hours. “But hers is more about why she needs to let him pick the theme.”

That wiped all traces of a smile off Chick’s face. “Is that why he brought her to the track today? To talk her into something? That’s not the deal.”

Kingston sent Rick a piercing look. “Not that I want to side with him, but I’ve got some tape I can roll back that shows all of you agreeing to letting them get a say.”

“A final say,” Chick corrected.

I nodded. “That’s what I heard.”

“Et tu, man?” Rick shook his head at me. “Bernie mentioned something to Lucy about a girlie wrap. You know we don’t do that artsy shit for Lemons.”

“Inexplicable and ridiculous, but not artsy?” Kingston verified dryly. “Yes, we’re all aware of the team’s modus operandi.”

“Why is everybody speaking Latin now?” Dalton asked with a small grin on his face.

I tried to reserve judgment. “A wrap, huh?”

“Wade hates those,” Rick said smugly. “We’ve been using his paint-and-body pals for years. ”

“Well, that’s a shame, because I already ordered a rush job due to the time crunch. I wanted to have it on hand when you all agreed. What’s your email, Wade?” When I told him, Chick tapped on his phone for a minute. “Sent. August spent two days and every minute she wasn’t going over my edits working on the design in Photoshop.”

“She didn’t mention it to me.”

He raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Spend a lot of time talking when you’re together lately, do you?”

“Not recently, and I’m staring at one of the reasons why.” When Rick whistled low, I sighed. “I’m only saying she’s been busy.”

“I’m not offended, and you’re not wrong. She’s got a lot going on right now. Including the work she’s been doing for free,” he added pointedly.

As if I didn’t realize she might have more time to spend with me if I hadn’t asked for her help. Yes, I was an idiot.

You’re still in bed together every night. That’s what you asked for. That’s all that matters.

Maybe it was just me. She hadn’t complained about not seeing me enough. She hadn’t complained about anything.

It worried me a little. She used to snipe at me all the time, back when I was acting like an asshole. Was this that honeymoon phase I’d heard people talk about? Or was she so laid back because she’d be leaving soon and wasn’t worried about where things were going?

Was I overthinking it? Hell yes.

“You ordered the wrap without the team’s approval.”

Chick was unimpressed with Rick’s intimidating look. “If you say no, I’ll have wasted a few bucks on a worthy cause. But you won’t, and you can go back to following your leader’s vision for the next race. Though you clearly wanted to go another way.”

“Not that way. ”

“I saw it.” Kingston leaned closer to me and lowered his voice. “It’s good, man.”

“She let you see it?”

Chick grinned. “I showed it to him. And she’s over that whole not-liking-him business now.”

“I was a senior with more hormones than brains. All I knew was that she was one of the kids my wingman had to take care of. And unlike his sister, who did her own thing, August was always stuck to my man like Velcro,” Kingston said petulantly. “I tugged her metaphorical braids so she’d make herself scarce. That’s no reason to refuse an on-camera interview now.”

A protective surge made my fists clench on the table. She’d been a smart, funny kid and I’d liked her company. “Where was I when this braid tugging happened?”

“Being the perfectly oblivious object of her young and hopeful heart.” Chick laid a consoling hand on my back. “They don’t call it a crush for nothing.”

Everybody was mentioning that lately.

“How about cluing us in on the clusterfuck of a theme that you’re so sure we won’t say no to?” Rick said impatiently.

“Samantha Retta is the theme.”

We all went still.

“A memorial car?” Rick’s face lost some of its judgment, but he still looked skeptical. “I’ve seen it done, but…”

“Our girl was worried no one would go for it because it wasn’t punny or weird, which is why she hasn’t said anything. But I’m telling you now, it resonates.”

I looked at Kingston doubtfully. “The other day you said they’d already done enough to honor her.”

“Check your email and you’ll know why I changed my mind.”

I pulled out my phone and Rick moved closer while Chick frowned at his own cell, muttering to himself .

“She’s not going to like this, but I think the image needs a soundtrack. You’ll only understand if you hear it for yourself.”

He raised his head long enough to glare at Kingston. “I know you’ll try to record this,” he said, tipping his head at the camera on the table, “but if you don’t get her approval prior to final edits, I have enough money to sic an army of lawyers on you for the rest of your natural life.”

I opened the image attachment and waited for it to download to my phone.

“This is a phone message to August,” Chick said. “She saved it but didn’t let anyone hear it until I got here.”

The bar noise muted as I focused on the sound of Sam’s familiar voice.

“ I had the greatest idea, sweetheart. Don’t say no until you hear me out. I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Lesa, thinking about how much both of my wonderful daughters would love it here. And about my last conversation with you. I hate it when we argue.”

They’d fought before she left?

I barely noticed Rick taking my phone out of my hand.

“But as much as you worry about my heart, I worry about yours. I miss hearing you laugh and watching you take on the world. Life doesn’t end after forty, and a few bumps in the road doesn’t mean you give up. Some of my best memories happened much, much later in my life. Even a few of the racier ones.”

Kingston made a sound beside me. Not quite a laugh.

“Speaking of racy, this is where my crazy idea comes in. I want us to enter Gene’s Lemony race together. Check out the website. Right on the first page it says, ‘All it takes is a cheap car, cool friends and one weekend.’ Wade can find us that car. And if he can’t, we can always use Jiminy. Do you remember those Herbie movies? He was born for something like this.”

I felt a few eyes gauging my reaction to that.

“And don’t talk to me about being a heart patient. If I can fly off to Italy, I can drive in circles for a few hours. Say yes, and I promise I’ll take sticking around more seriously.”

Her laughter echoed through the icehouse like a happy memory. “I mean that, even if you do make good on your threat to run away and start fresh in Maine. I’d follow you there anyway and be as happy collecting seashells along the Atlantic as I am in the Gulf. As long as you’re okay, I’ll be okay.”

There was a crackle of static when she paused . “I wish you would answer your phone when your mother is calling from another country and knows you never leave the house. I’ll try again tomorrow after my ferry trip and nag you until you agree. Please think about it. If you say no to everything, you’ll miss…everything. You are my sunshine and I love you a bushel and a peck. Ciao, bambina.”

“Damn.” It was Dalton who broke the silence at the table. Was he crying ? He’d never even met Sam. “It’s like, a last request and shit. You’ve got to do it now, right?”

Not one of us disagreed.

Rick cleared his throat. “Hell.” He stared at my phone for a long moment before sliding it to me, pulling out his own and standing up. “I’ll tell Gene we’re wrapping the car. He’ll deal with it.”

Kingston grabbed his camera and got up too. “And I’ll call Dad. See how he’s doing with that boat August asked for.” He walked out through the open overhead door, head down, expression closed.

I couldn’t look at the image on my phone yet. Finding out what August hadn’t shared with me was a bitter pill to swallow.

She’d saved that voicemail all this time and never mentioned it until now. Until we’d already agreed to race Jiminy. Until Chick had shown up.

I wasn’t proud of the jealousy I was feeling, but I wanted to be the one she turned to and shared her secrets with. Hell, I’d settle for being in the top three.

I hadn’t known she’d been thinking of leaving before Sam died. Chick had offered her a place in California, but before that, according to that message, she’d been considering running away to Maine.

Was it a joke between the two women, or an actual possibility? Would she tell me either way? Would she want me to come with her?

Because you’d leave your family and friends behind? The businesses? Your life?

If I’d known twenty years ago how we’d be together, I might have said yes, despite my hang-ups. If it was fifteen to twenty years from now, I’d gladly spend my retirement chasing her sweet ass around the globe and back. But now? Starting from scratch at this point in my life, when my family still needed me? For a maybe?

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours, Captain Wade?” Chick asked softly.

I wasn’t sure why he’d started calling me that, but I didn’t correct him. I was too busy pondering the nature of pointless plans.

“I’m thinking I need to get those measurements on the roll cage for Dalton before I pack it in for the day,” I lied flatly as I got to my feet and pulled out my wallet.

When had it become just the two of us?

“I’d like to remind you that communication is important in any new relationship, but particularly one with a writer.”

I threw a couple of bills on the table for Patty. “She’s the one keeping things to herself.”

“Then you’ve told her how you feel about her already? That you want more out of your current situation than great sex and temporary housing?”

I glared down at him, still lounging in his chair as if he intended to stay there a while. “I’ve been trying to show her. Aren’t writers supposed to be observant?”

“We’re phenomenally observant about everyone except ourselves and, more often than not, the people we’re dating. We’re like therapists that way. It’s a pesky blind spot that wreaks havoc on our personal lives.”

When I didn’t respond, he sighed and stood. As we walked out into the sun and back across the street, he said, “August is my family, Wade. The only one I’m willing to acknowledge. She’s been there for me through some dark hours and never asked for anything in return but my friendship. I would do anything for her, up to and including burying a body.”

“You warning me off?” Damn me if I didn’t like him better for it.

“Warning you, yes, but hard as it is to believe, I’m also attempting to help you. At great detriment to myself, since I’m the one who stands to lose here.”

What was he saying?

“She can frustrate even me with her inability to see her own worth or what’s right in front of her,” he continued. “You have a little time here, but if you don’t let her know what you want soon, she’s going to give you exactly what you’re expecting.”

I stopped in the open door of the garage. “What does that mean?”

“It means she’ll leave, because that’s always been the answer before and no one’s bothered to give her a good enough reason to find a different one.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

Chick opened his mouth to respond as Kingston walked up.

“I’m out.” He spun his keys around his fingers. “I want to see if I can catch the last of their practice.”

“Mind giving me a ride?” Chick asked, his expression subdued. “Rick took off without me, and I need to get to the track myself.”

“You’re going to the track?” I asked, ignoring Kingston’s frown.

“That was the plan. There’s a steak place I’d like to drop by first. I thought I’d get everyone an early dinner. August said they only brought one cooler with soggy sandwiches, so she must be starved for something edible by now.”

“I know the restaurant.” Kingston gave me a look I couldn’t decipher. “Want to join us?”

Eating was the last thing on my mind right now. “You go ahead without me. I need to start the clean-up and plan for tomorrow.”

The look intensified and I realized it was panic. Not something my overly confident friend was known for.

“Are you sure you want to turn down free steak?” he asked. “I still need a mechanic’s viewpoint on the race requirements. My eyes cross anytime I start reading the website details.”

Dalton walked up, smoothing a hand over his beard. “I’d like to get a look at the track and I love free steak.”

“Great.” Kingston latched on to that offer like a lifeline, confusing the hell out of me. “You’re riding with us.”

“Hot damn.” Dalton smiled at me. “I’ve never hung out with a famous person before.”

Kingston looked so pleased I didn’t have the heart to tell him Dalton was more of a sci-fi fiend than I was, and a huge fan of Chick’s movies.

He’d find out soon enough.

“I’ll start welding when I get back. You want a doggy bag, boss?”

“I’m good.”

I was lying my ass off. But it got them all out of the garage.

“Nothing I do can make her stay.”

“It means she’ll leave. ”

I’d talked my way into August’s life with a few half-assed plans and years of built-up what-ifs in my pocket. And, in a way, I’d gotten exactly what I wanted. I knew what it felt like to have her now. She was in every part of my life. Beside me in bed. Here at work. In my head all the time. But I couldn’t keep burying that head in the sand.

History told me she’d leave, and so did the two people who knew her best. She wasn’t gone yet, but I had to let myself consider the possibility that it would happen, no matter how good we were together, and sooner rather than later.

I couldn’t regret it, no matter how bleak my life would look without her in it now. I only wished I’d had the balls to take a chance a little sooner, instead of using bad timing as an excuse.

Maybe you should take Chick’s advice and talk to her instead of giving up.

I wasn’t giving up yet. There was no way in hell I’d cut our time short because I might not get my way in the end. But I was thinking about taking a page from her book. Maybe I’d give living in the moment a try instead of waiting for the inevitable. Tomorrow was coming, whether I wanted it to or not. But that’s when I’d deal with it. Tomorrow.

Until then, I wanted to make some more memories.