REMI
Iwake against a wall of solid muscle.
Gage!
He’s watching me, his gaze no longer so cold, but a stretch from warm.
I twist my body to curl into his. He smooths my hair from my face and kisses my forehead. A tender act I didn’t think he was capable of.
For a moment, we’re not stuck in the apocalypse. It’s just him and me, in love, with a million possible futures.
Perhaps he would have been an amazing husband and father. Someone that never forgot a birthday and went to every little league practice.
A best friend who never failed to show up to help someone move.
“What if we had met somewhere else?” I ask. “A gas station. A stadium. A coffee shop within the city.”
“Your splendor would be enough to render me speechless,” Gage says.
“You lie.”
“What am I supposed to say? I wouldn’t have looked twice at you because you were too fucking young and you weren’t wrapped around a pole.”
Startled, I say, “So that’s your type?”
“I wouldn’t call it a type as much as I’d call it a lifestyle. I never stayed in one place too long, and when the occasional itch rose, I did what I could to scratch it.”
I don’t know how I feel about what he said, other than I don’t want to be insignificant. Could it be I’m just convenient?
“Do you think that itch will rise again?”
“Every fucking day.” His hand cups my cheek. “And you’re going to be the one to scratch it.”
I could choose to be forever suspicious of his love, or I could decide to believe him and be happy.
The choice is easy. We love each other and our pasts are insignificant.
Gage stretches, then climbs out of bed and grabs some MREs from the chest.
“So, is this what we’re eating from now through eternity?” I ask. “Not that I’m complaining. Just curious.”
“We have gardens at the Keep. Chickens for eggs. Lots of nonperishables as well, but you’ll get a lot of fresh food. When you get pregnant, you’ll get the best of everything. There is no status higher than being a Kept Woman.”
“I don’t get it. Did the apocalypse only happen in the city? How does a place like that exist?”
“No. You’ll see.”
Gage mixes my drink as I pull out the beef stew packet and the heating element.
“When will I see?”
He says nothing, and I know prodding him would be useless. If he wanted to tell me, he would.
“At least tell me how safe it is to give birth.”
“It would be as safe as it would be before the ragers came.”
“How is that even possible?”