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Malik’s expression was affectionate but dubious. “And you’re not?”
Malik had expected her to toss off a quip, but Shade considered as she seasoned her food. Malik was testing her, and of course she knew it. That was the upside of his being with Shade: whatever Malik said or even thought, Shade got it, understood. But that was also the downside.
“Did it ever occur to you that I’m human? That I just needed to be with you?” Shade asked.
Malik nodded. “It did occur to me, babe. It did.” He tilted his head and looked at her appraisingly. “People can have more than one motive. And, well, you feel bad. Guilty. Which, by the way, two things: one, it’s progress. The Shade I used to know didn’t do guilt. And two, you’ll notice I’m not complaining.”
Shade grabbed a napkin and wiped a bit of egg from his mouth. Then she leaned into him and kissed him on the lips. He closed his eyes because he always did. He felt her mouth on his, her tongue teasing him, her exhalation on his cheeks, and felt the wonderful, careless weakness of surrender.
After all this time, after all he had seen and
done, after all that had been done to him, as strong as he felt he had become, he had no power, never would have any power, to resist her.
“Yes, I feel guilty,” Shade whispered. “And no, I’m not that person anymore. Or at least I’m less that person.”
Malik nodded. “When we were together, I used to tell you I loved you.”
“Past tense?” Shade asked, trying for lighthearted and achieving only a quivery uncertainty.
“Oh, I have to say it again?” he asked archly. “Okay. Shade, I never got over you. Of course I still love you. How could I not still love you?”
Shade’s breath caught in her throat, and Malik saw to his absolute amazement that tears were spilling down her cheeks. Malik took her napkin and wiped one away with great tenderness, as though he thought her flesh might bruise.
“Oh, shit,” Shade muttered, and now the tears were coming fast, and sobs seized her next few words. She swallowed hard, started to speak, stopped. Then, finally, in a low, strained voice said, “I love you too, bunny.”
Malik laughed. “This is what it takes to get you to say those words? After all these years. All it takes is a total catastrophe that may destroy all of human civilization, and then you can say it?”
“Well,” Shade said, smiling weakly, “I didn’t want to seem easy.”
Malik erupted in his absurd, embarrassing donkey laugh. “The word ‘easy’ will never be applied to you, babe. In the dictionary next to the term ‘high maintenance,’ there’s an illustration of you.”
“Mmm. You know, Dekka and Francis are still out. Cruz went with Armo to pick up some junk food. . . . I mean, these people are nice to lend us this house, but they are way too into health food—”
“And?” Malik interrupted her digression.
“And, well, we kind of have privacy.” She laid a hand on his thigh.
A while later they lay side by side in the king-sized bed in the master bedroom, Shade with her head on his bare chest.
“Just so we’re clear,” Malik said, “was that guilt or good, honest lust? Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine either way.”
“Just fine?”
He kissed her. “You practically killed me just now, so it may have been attempted murder, actually, but again, I’m totally fine with that.”
“Hey, Malik?” Shade raised her head and turned him to look at her. “I love you.”
They were silent for a while, savoring, relaxing, ignoring the rest of the world.
“This is all unreal, isn’t it?” Shade asked, looking up at the ceiling. “Us. We’re not real.”
“Of course we’re real,” Malik said. “Yes, maybe we’re in a simulation. But we have no alternative to treating it as real because this is the only reality we have. The walls are solid. Gravity still works. Pain is real, as real as ever. Pleasure, too.”
“It’s a bit creepy knowing they’re seeing everything.”
“Yeah. A bit.”
“Are we some kind of experiment? Or a movie? Or a game?”
