10 Months Ago Novels & Stories

“We’ll be celebrating our anniversary this coming month.” Anniversary? My heart skipped a beat. Really? It didn’t feel like we’d been together that long, yet when I thought about it, I realized just how much time had passed. I’d run away from him—ten months. Ten months, spent building my career, trying to heal and manage my grandmother’s cabin in Finland. It had felt like a lifetime of distance, but now, here we were. Still in this honeymoon phase, still learning from each other, still new.

“Your mother said it right.” “She said 120 days. Not that moonths.” “Months, not moonths.” Turning red, Eugene stuttered, “T-Then you a-are lying.” “I am not. Four Months and 120 days are the same.” “How?” “There are 30 days in a month. 30 times 4 is equal to 120. So, 120 days is four months.” Eugene’s mouth opened. His teachers said that he’s good in math but he felt stupid while talking to his father.

For six months. One hundred eighty days. Each one an eternity.

‌“Sarah, are you‌ sure ab‌out this?‍ Y⁠ou’re sti‌ll gri‍evin​g. Mayb​e it’⁠s t‍oo soon.” “It’s‌ been​ n⁠ine months‍, M‌ama.” “Nine​ m‍onths is​ n⁠othing. You‌ n‌ee⁠d time t‍o heal.” “​I am heali‌ng. Thi‌s is how I heal.”

"Answer. Me." "Less than a year." My hands went limp, my knees hitched, and I stumbled, slumping on the floor. I held my hand in the air, stopping Albert who was rushing toward me from coming closer. Energy went out of me and my head spun. "Mr. Walker-" "H-How many months precisely?" I asked, my head hung down, a sour taste in my mouth. "I-I'm not so certain-" "Answer me, Albert!" "About ten or eleven months, if you're lucky enough."

Of course, it's no longer the same old phone I used to use. The phone screen lights up, and the time shows October 28, which means four months have passed since that photo was taken. My head hurts like it's about to explode. I'm trying to keep myself from making too loud a sound. I don't want Bernie to wake up right now.

Everything will be fine; it's just four months. Just four months...

There was a date written down on it and the date shows it has been 8 years ago. What the hell!

Must be a record for eyerolls in a single conversation. I look down at my hands, picking at my cuticles as I slowly draw out my time. “Technically…six months,” I say quietly, feeling a bit embarrassed. God, I’m pathetic.

Sam's POV There I was, inside the hushed room where stillness hung thick - just the faint pulse of an old clock breaking the silence from its high shelf spot. Light spilled across the floor from my tablet, screen bright with one bold red ring circling the current day. Six months. Six months left before the deal ends.