A Strange Day in July

He threw with all his might, but the stone didn’t skip. He breathed slowly, mad that it sank before grazing the surface of the water even once. He looked over his shoulder and saw her. She was smiling.

It couldn’t have been that bad if she was smiling.

Then he grabbed her hand. She looked at him. They both blushed. He dropped her hand out of embarrassment.

He began to apologize, but was cut off by her taking his hand back. She gave him another stone. He once again threw with all his might, this time not even watching to see how far it skipped. Instead he turned and kissed her. She kissed him back. All was well on that strange day in July.

They went back to his house and sat on the porch swing while eating creamsicles. They were her favorite. And she was his favorite. They talked for hours until the sun set and the stars lit their faces. It was getting late.

She had to go home. He took her hand and they walked to her house together. They got to her driveway. She kissed him again, and walked to the door. He could see her smiling. He was smiling too. All was well on that strange day in July.

They spent every day together the rest of that summer. Eating popsicles on his porch, sometimes laying on her driveway before she went inside. They were always together and wouldn't have it any other way.

Weeks turned to years and they were adults. Living together in an apartment complex. No more porch swing, but they made do. All they needed was each other. Then he got down on one knee.

She walked down the aisle in white. A tear slid down his face when he saw her. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, anxious. The anxiety slipped away when he saw her beaming at him. They looked at each other.

It was all a blur, and then they kissed. People cheered. They looked at their family, but only briefly. All he wanted was to look at her. All she wanted was to look at him. All was well on that strange day in July.

Time passed. They were still living in an apartment, but were building a house in the suburbs. She smiled and showed him a stick. There were two pink lines. He beamed and they hugged for a long time. He didn’t want to let go of her. They were happy.

The house was done, and they moved in. They cried for a long time. He still didn’t want to let go of her. She looked like a shell of a person. He could see the anguish in her eyes as tears streamed down her face. It wasn’t her fault. He still loved her more than ever.

They lived in that house for a while, but it didn’t feel like home. It felt like a reminder of what could’ve been. They moved back to the town where they grew up. They felt better there.

One day she wasn’t home. The house was quiet without her. He looked for her at the lake. She was holding a stone while sitting on the ground. He sat down next to her even though the rocks were jagged. She lay her head on his shoulder. He kissed her and brushed the hair from her face.

They sat there for a long time. He was afraid if he let go, she would evaporate. Then eventually she did. And he sat alone on that strange day in July.