“You made it half a mile,” I said immediately.
“I nearly died.”
“You were being dramatic.”
Beep.
“I saw the gates of heaven.”Beep.“Only psychopath’s enjoy running.”
I pointed at the radio automatically, even though she couldn’t see it. “Slander.”
“Other than reading shitty manuals and eating the same canned food,” she said after a beat, “sometimes I stare at the ceiling for several hours.”
“Very productive.”
“Sometimes.” A faint sound came through—maybe her adjusting a flashlight or tapping a book closed. “Sometimes I think about what you’re doing,” she added.
“What do you picture?”
“The same thing you’ve always done. Running around with a pencil tucked behind your ear, catering to whatever girl is on your arm...”
I pitched my voice low, teasing. “That is unbelievably rude.”
“And probably accurate.”
“No.”
“Have you…” Her voice was small. Nothing like who I knew her to be. “Did you—fuck, why am I so awkward?” She let out a soft sigh. “Did you ever get married? Are you with someone?”
I paused.Shit. Did she think I had a family somewhere tucked away up here that I’d forgotten to tell her about? There was no one but Solace. Not even before the end of the world. That night, sitting in the front row during her first performance, I knew.
I knew she was the only one for me.
Then the Scourge happened and I was in space and there was no way to reach her or any time to figure our shit out. Somewhere beneath us, impossibly far away, she was curled up underground talking to me through a broken radio line like no time had passed at all. The thought hit me so suddenly it stole the smile from my face.
Seven years. Seven fucking years.
“I found you through Satellites,” I admitted. “I heard it relayed through the other bunker. I recognized the melody immediately and stumbled out of the room to throw up in the hall. I’ve been having these crazydreams,” I confessed quietly. “Every night I fall asleep, and every night I wake up with your face right there—so close your nose is almost brushing mine.” My throat tightened around the words. Sometimes the dreams felt like seeing my life, except I wasn't invited.
“A thousand times I’ve dreamt of you, and a thousand times I’ve begged for death,” I continued, voice low and rough now, “for the chance to rest long and deep enough to lie beside you a little longer.”
The radio hissed softly between us.
“It’s not enough to only share the sky. I don’t want to keep turning the same orbit and miss you every fucking time.”
Silence. My hand tightened around the edge of the desk.
“I’m not saying that because the world ended and I’ve got nothing left,” I said. “I’m saying it because even before all this,there was nobody else.There is nobody else. It has always been you, Solace.”
A shaky breath crackled through the speakers. I could almost picture her with her eyes closed, listening.
“That night after your performance in New York… that was the last time for me. I haven’t—” I scrubbed a hand down my jaw. “That was the last time. There’s only you, Solace.”
“Jude,” she murmured.
“I have more to say to you,” I continued. “But I refuse to say it until I can cradle your face between my palms and press a kiss to your perfect lips. Because fuck what’s left of this world.” My voice dropped lower. “You’re mine, and I’m coming for you, baby.”
18
