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"You know I'm not good with the future."
"Do you see anything at all?"
I shake my head. "I can barely see getting through the next few months."
"You will." He brushes a hair behind my ear and brings his hand to my chin until our eyes are locked again. "And then we'll have the rest of our lives to spend together."
I bite my tongue. It should sound amazing. It does. But there's something about it, something that makes my knees weak and my grip shaky.
Luke pulls me closer, only for a moment. I close my eyes and press my lips into his, trying to pour everything I'm feeling into him. I can't explain it. I can't even figure it out myself. But I need him to know how I feel, how much I love him.
Our kiss breaks and he brings his gaze back to mine. It's sweet, sincere.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I nod. I'd rather we never discussed if I was okay ag
ain. He runs his hands over my arms. It's such a gentle, sweet thing. I feel like I could melt. But I stand firm as he takes my hand and continues our walk. "What do you want to happen next year?"
"I don't know. I guess I want to survive."
"Ally, I know you have higher aspirations than that. You don't get to be a TV star or a Broadway actor by only aiming to survive."
"I'm sorry, honey, but I don't know."
"Well, let's try it. Close your eyes."
"This is silly."
"Do it anyway," he says. He pulls me towards the side of the path, under the shade of a blossoming tree. "Now, close your eyes."
I do as I'm instructed.
"We'll start with something easy. Think about tonight. What are you going to do?"
A smile creeps onto my lips. "You know what I'm going to do tonight."
"And I want you to imagine it vividly. Every touch, every kiss, every caress."
I'm sure I'm blushing.
"Do you see it?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Now, let's move a little farther. Let's try next week. Can you imagine what you'll do next Monday, on your next day off?"
"No," I say. I try hard to imagine where I'll be next week, but all I can see is that apartment. I'll probably be lying in bed, dead tired, barely able to read my Kindle.
"You're thinking something. I can tell."
"I'll be in the apartment reading."
"That's a start." His voice is deep and soft, but there's an urgency to it, like there's something he's getting at. I bite my lip. Of course there's something he's getting at.
I'm not an idiot. He's asking about my future, but really, he's asking about our future. If I think we'll be together forever.
There it is again, that ugly word. Forever. I hate forever.
