Tomorrow Will Be Better: A Novel Novels & Stories

Much to my surprise, Lunara ended up giving me the best assist I could ask for. To give birth before Jayden and I got engaged, Lunara secretly took labor-inducing drugs. As a result, the baby was born prematurely and left with chronic health issues. With the season changing, even the slightest breeze would send the child to the hospital. Jayden was practically living at the hospital, his eyes full of anxiety and exhaustion. Naturally, he had no energy left to deal with company affairs.

She closed the notebook, extinguished the candle, and whispered into the dark: “Tomorrow, the storm begins.”

Resting my body on the cold floor. Tomorrow will be another day. And a better day.

Tomorrow was the coronation feast. Tomorrow, he’d hold it. Tomorrow, the truth would sing. ---

It feels like something too good to be true, and in my experience, things that were too good to be true usually come with a price. "Sleep," Nova murmurs, pulling the covers up around us. "Tomorrow is a new day." I take a deep breath and close my eyes, letting the darkness take me, leaving the questions and the secrets for the morning.

The Night Before. We lay in bed in the darkness, not sleeping, just existing in the space between now and tomorrow. Tomorrow, when we’d drive to the Hamptons. Tomorrow, when we’d walk into Alexei’s home. Tomorrow, when everything would either work or end. Adrian’s arm was around me, his heartbeat steady against my back, but I could feel the tension in his body, coiled tight like a spring wound to breaking. “If this goes wrong—” he started. “It won’t.”

The city shimmered, reflective, like it had been polished. She thought about the chapters behind her. The chaos. The ambition. The fear disguised as momentum. She thought about the chapters ahead, not in plot points, but in textures. Conversations that mattered. Work chosen carefully. Love without performance. For the first time, the future didn’t feel like something she had to conquer. It felt like something she could meet. Before going back inside, she took out her phone and opened a blank note. She titled it simply: Tomorrow. And under it, she wrote one sentence: Begin again, but slower, and on purpose.

Then, she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. That night, we anxiously packed up, planning to leave for a neighboring state to lie low for a while. But then Mrs. Lewis called, saying Mom had apparently gotten beaten up again. She pressed her phone against the wall, and I could barely hear what was happening next door. Mr. Jarrell yelled, "Are you out of your mind, Shannon? I swear you've drunk yourself into a stupor. You really thought this was a good idea? Do you want me to send someone to knock some sense into you first?"

"Looking forward to tomorrow." I gripped the phone tightly, as if its weight could anchor me to something real. Roy's words were simple, seemingly innocuous, but they held the promise of a world free of shadows. Tomorrow's dinner suddenly felt less like a plan and more like a fragile rebellion against chaos. But even rebellions have consequences, and I knew that James Clark's shadow wouldn't stay away for long.

Nathan suddenly recalled how he'd scaled Joanne's bedroom window in this same chilly weather back when they first began their arrangement. Whenever that happened, Joanne would always feel bad for him and pull him in through the windows to warm him up. She'd then press a warm mug of hot cocoa and some hand warmers into his hands to help chase the cold away. But now, Nathan had nothing left. Edgar continued honking, but the traffic was so congested it was practically a standstill. Nathan wiped his face with the back of his hand like he'd just made a huge decision and said, "Unlock the doors. I'll run there by myself."