Tomorrow Will Be Better: A Novel Novels & Stories

I set the phone down and rested my hand on my belly, an old habit becoming a promise. Outside, the city moved on. Inside, the house held. “Tomorrow,” Luca said. “Tomorrow,” I echoed. And for the first time since the knock on my door weeks ago, tomorrow didn’t feel like a threat. —End Chapter 18

“I can smell how wet you still are. How much you want me to pin you down and remind you exactly who you belong with.” A whimper escaped me. My nipples tightened against the soft shirt. “This is too fast. I just left him. I can’t—” “You can.” His breath ghosted over my lips. “And you will. But not tonight. Tonight we plan. Tomorrow we fight. When it’s done, I’ll knot you so thoroughly you’ll forget every cold night he gave you.” The crude promise sent a gush of slick soaking my panties. I squeezed my thighs together, mortified and aching. Kael inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering half-closed in pure male satisfaction.

I get up from the armchair, glancing at Vlad. “I'm going to look for more books.” Vlad nods in agreement. I enter the section of contemporary erotic novels, coming across an endless aisle of books with every theme that could exist. I pick up one named: My Hot Neighbor from the Gym. And I focus on reading, being amazed by the depravity and loving every page I read. I see Vlad approaching and quickly grab a self-help book that was in the middle of the shelf, titled: Tomorrow Will Come Soon and put it underneath, disguising it.

She closed the door and collapsed onto her bed as she struggled to process everything that had just happened. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. What did he mean by "everything changes tomorrow"? Was it a promise? A warning? Noah had always been a mystery to her, but now his return came with a darker edge, something more dangerous and thrilling than before. Tomorrow was no longer just another day. It was the beginning of something that could change her life forever. But whether it was for better or worse, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that Noah was no longer just her brother’s best friend or her professor, he was something much more.

Manoj looked more than happy to see them leave. Once the movers finished unloading the truck, they cleared the premises, leaving Manoj alone to explore his new home. He made his way to a dull and poorly lit bedroom on the ground floor. The small room offered little space for movement, and hardly any light filtered in. In the room, a middle-aged woman lay bedridden and paralyzed. Her physical limitations and broken spirit seemed on to have accelerated her aging factor. Beside the bed was a young lady in her early twenties, ready to help the paralyzed woman up. As she bent over to adjust the old woman’s covers, Manoj stared at her hanging breasts with lust twinkling in his eyes.

The next morning, Jessica was ready to leave for work. As expected, the sun shone brightly and the snow was starting to disappear. She took a long shower. She took a moment to breathe and leaned into the mirror above the sink. She stared at her reflection for a minute, the faint scar on her forehead, just below her hairline reminded her of the terrible accident she had a year ago. She shook it off. In a matter of seconds, she was ready for work. She walked downstairs and found Adam on a phone call. He had a habit of pacing around while he talked on the phone. Jessica had found him in the most bizarre places doing the oddest of things during a phone call. Sharp rays of sunlight penetrated the

The specific absence of fear and the specific presence of everything else. Not tonight — tonight was the fire and the camp and the bond's quiet hum and the first real autumn of everything that was coming. But tomorrow. Tomorrow she would write it down.

I closed my eyes slowly and let sleep take me without fighting it this time, trusting that tomorrow would come whether I was ready or not and that maybe, just maybe, I was finally moving toward something better even if I couldn’t fully see it yet and maybe that was okay for now. *****

And now they're both alone, pretending this is what they wanted. I delete the last line. Write instead: *And now they're both alone, wishing they had been braver. But tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow, she'll stand in the gallery and watch him do what he does best. Tomorrow, she'll choose courage over comfort. Tomorrow, she'll fight for them.* *Even if she doesn't know how yet.* I save the document. Close the laptop. Set my alarm for six AM. Tomorrow is day three. The final round.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Be good.” I closed my eyes, clutching the phone to my chest, feeling every word settle inside me like a fragile promise. The tears fell quietly, but they weren’t just sadness. They were relief. Hope. Finally, I lay back down, pulling the blanket close around me, my body heavy but my heart lighter. As sleep pulled me under, I whispered into the dark, “Tomorrow… I’ll be better. I have to be.” And with that, I drifted off, the ache in my heart still there—but somehow, just a little less painful tonight.