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“Layana—”
Somehow, my name on his lips sounded like a warning, a curse, and somehow a show of concern. It was the last of those I couldn’t handle.
“See you next time,” I said. Then I booked it out of there before he could call me out on whatever my unhinged behavior could be classified as. I ran away before he could tell me thisarrangement wasn’t working or that he didn’t want to see me anymore.
Next time I’d be better prepared. I just needed to inoculate myself, remind my body and brain that I hated Gabriel Stryker and he hated me. Kissing wasn’t even in the realm of possibility, so there was no need to worry about that happening.
It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I’d accidentally stolen his suit jacket. I folded it carefully and set it on top of my dresser.
I needed to reread all the worst articles I could find about him. I needed to dig deeper into his flaws to refresh my hate and regain my power.
But first, I needed to write.
SIXTEEN
GABRIEL
The street lamps were spaced close enough together that I was never truly in darkness during my morning run. My muscles moved on autopilot as I returned to the same path I had tread for years before Layana crashed into my life like a wrecking ball.
At the time, I’d thought there was no alternative but to avoid the unpredictably explosive obstacle and forever alter my course. I’d held onto this belief until yesterday, when everything changed.
We’d negotiated a truce.
I’d scared the woman I’d thought was fearless.
She’d run away.
Now I found myself altering my routine despite my reluctance to do so. I ran toward Eterni-Tea in the hopes of seeing her. I carried her blanket wrapped around my neck like a scarf, just as she had done last night—a completely impractical action that offered me an excuse to speak with her.
I breathed in the hints of vanilla and hazelnut that saturated the soft fabric.
None of these actions made any sense to me, which was entirely unsettling.
I thrived on order, on sameness, on knowing exactly what to expect. Changes to that routine were distractions, energy wasted on meaninglessness when I should be focused on my work.
Yet a spark of nervous anticipation filled my stomach as I neared the twenty-four-hour café. My resolve wavered. I didn’t have to stop, didn’t have to see or speak with her. She hadn’t posted a photograph yet. She was busy, and likely unprepared for me to drop in. She may not even be working this morning. Perhaps I should wait until she texted me requesting a future appointment. Of course that’s what I should do. It was ridiculous that I had considered otherwise.
I watched the flickering sign grow closer. I held my breath as I ran past.
Then it was done.
I’d gone by exactly as I used to, without confrontation, without alteration to my day. My nerves settled as relief took over, with perhaps a tinge of something darker. But there was no reason for regret.
Everything was as it was meant to be for the rest of my run. Nothing was out of place. No surprises awaited me as I reached my building or rode the elevator up to my office, either. I tucked Layana’s blanket into my desk drawer. Then I showered in my private bathroom and changed into a fresh suit, every event happening exactly the way it was meant to.
As soon as I stepped across the threshold to my lab, I lost myself in the flow of science.
I ran samples through the regularly scheduled tests and recorded the latest numbers. No significant changes noted. The droplet I examined under the microscope remained structurally stable.
Adjustments to pH and nitrogen levels did nothing to make the sample react.
I considered the pale green fluid in the flask. I’d described the murky yellowish green color to Jasper as pistachio. Compared to a similar, undomesticated sample, the shade was unnaturally pale.
But there was nothing natural about my genetically engineered strain.
Still, color was not a factor I had attempted to alter. Perhaps that had been a mistake. In most circumstances, color was simply a visual measure of reflected light, but in eukaryotic organisms, it indicated levels of chlorophyll-a.
Layana’s voice played, unbidden in my head.“Dragon fruit with its beautiful pinks and greens. Blueberries and strawberries.”
