For Tonight

The full story

A fictional Song Story inspired by the lyrics of “kintsugi” and giddy’s explanation of the song. June, Eli and the events below are invented.

By the time June found her key, one of the paper handles had pulled loose. She caught the shopping bag against the front door and tried to get her knee underneath it, but the bottom opened first. Oranges rolled across the step. A jar of marmalade landed against her shoe and stayed there.

Eli opened the door to find her holding the two handles. Rain dripped from her hair onto the torn paper. He took the bread from under her arm and went back inside for a bowl, then crouched beside her to collect the oranges. One had rolled under the car. June watched him reach for it, his cheek nearly touching the wet driveway.

“Leave that one.”

“Nearly got it.”

He came back with a dirty sleeve and all five oranges. In the kitchen, June put the marmalade on the counter. She had bought it for her mother, who had slept through most of that evening’s visit. The jar was too big for the hospital locker. She could see that now, standing in her own kitchen, although she had spent several minutes in the shop deciding which one to buy.

“How was she?” Eli asked.

June started with the things she had been telling everyone. Her mother had slept. The nurse had been kind. They would know more tomorrow. She got as far as tomorrow and pressed the heel of her hand against her mouth.

Eli pulled out a chair. She sat with her coat still buttoned while he put the shopping away. The milk went in the fridge, the bread in its usual place. He rinsed the oranges and left them in the bowl. June watched the water drain from them and began to cry.

“I can’t keep telling everyone it’s all right.”

He sat beside her. She bent forward until her forehead rested against his shoulder, and he put one hand between her shoulder blades. They stayed that way while the fridge motor started and the water in the sink finished running down the plughole.

Her phone vibrated against the table. Another message asking for news. She reached for it, then left her hand halfway there.

“Will you answer that?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Just what I told you. Tell them I’ll call in the morning.”

He read his reply to her before sending it. Then she asked him to message her brother as well, and he did that while she took off her coat.

Later, sitting on the edge of their bed, June tried to undo a knot in her shoelace. Pulling had made it tighter. Eli knelt and worked at it with a thumbnail until the loop came free.

“You must be tired of me,” she said.

He looked up. “June.”

She knew that tone. Years ago, after his little repair shop closed, he had spent whole evenings at the kitchen table with the accounts spread out around him. She would bring her own things to the table, a book or a basket of washing, and stay until he was ready to leave it. Once, she had fallen asleep with a pair of his socks in her lap. He had carried the basket upstairs and come back for her.

Now he set her shoes together under the bed. June lay down and watched him clear the clothes from the bedroom chair. He draped her jumper over its back and brought the chair close enough that she could reach him.

“What if they ring?”

He plugged her phone into the charger on his side. “I’ll hear it. I’ll wake you.”

She nodded, then looked towards the doorway. The landing light reached across the carpet in a narrow strip.

“Leave that on.”

Eli settled into the chair with his book. June could hear him finding his place, turning several pages back before he stopped. She moved her foot beneath the blanket until it rested against his knee, and closed her eyes.

Song details

Released January 30, 2026. Vocals and ukulele by giddy; cello by Sophia Clark; bass by Sean Carey; percussion by Jess Ciampa. Produced and mixed by Sean Carey at Church Street Studios. Mastered by Kathy Naunton. Credits and artist page.