Page 135 of Glitched Play

"It's just food."

"I failed."

"No."

"I really did."

I shake my head. "You attempted something outside your experience because you wanted to make me happy." I pause. "I don't call that failure."

She studies me for several long seconds.

"What do you call it?"

"Love."

The word hangs between us. I wasn't planning to say it. I don't even know if she hears it the way I meant it.

Not I love you.

Not yet.

Just...

Love.

The act of putting someone else's happiness ahead of your own.

I glance around the kitchen again. A few weeks ago, this room would have bothered me. It would have given me hives. I would have had to leave and get a professional cleaning crew in stat.

Now...

It's simply a kitchen that two people can clean together.

"I estimate twenty-three minutes."

Her lashes flutter once, like the words take a second to land. “For what?"

"Recovery."

"You think we can save dinner?"

"No." A smile tugs at my mouth. "But I think we can save the garlic bread."

She laughs—a real laugh this time—and suddenly the flour on the counters doesn't seem nearly as important.

We end up eating garlic bread and I decide to show her something else that I love. My gaming room.

“Follow me.”

We go to the end of the hallway and down three stairs and I enter the code to the room and push open the door.

"This is where I spend too much time."

Maci steps inside and slowly turns in a circle.

Three curved monitors sit above a walnut desk wide enough for four people to game side by side. Controllers line a floating shelf beneath them, each resting in its own charging dock. Display cases hold pieces of gaming history—my first controller, the notebook where I sketched my first game, prototypes from Synatrix, and championship trophies from tournaments I'd won before anyone outside the gaming world knew my name.

Hanging on the walls are sketches of me when I was a baby, one when I’m about twelve playing video games and one more recent in a suit.