Page 28 of Out on a Limb

It’s lumpy and uneven, but I stretch out with my back on the pile of clothing. Then Jana crawls on top of me, pressing her chest down against mine, and the air stills in my lungs.

Never thought I’d have this again, not even for a moment. Not even for practical reasons.

Is it wrong to enjoy huddling for warmth?

Jana jumps when I wrap my arms around her, a shaky laugh misting against my throat. “Sorry. Your hands are cold.”

No, I’m sorry, but for some reason I can’t form words right now. Can’t do anything except cling to Jana and shiver as her warmth seeps into my skin, relishing the tap, tap, tap of her heartbeat against mine.

The office smells like paper and the faint scents of the bar: whiskey, citrus, wood sap. And now coconut shampoo and the sweet, musky scent of Jana’s body.

Yes.

I love this woman so much.

“You ran.” Finally, the words scrape out of me, so painful even to say out loud. Jana’s breath hitches, and she cuddles me even tighter. “Why did you run? What would the note say?”

Jana makes a soft noise.

There’s a long stretch when I think she won’t reply. That I’ll never get answers, and I’ll go to my grave wondering where I went wrong. I’d go mad, I think.

But: “It would say that I’ll miss you,” Jana says at last, saving me from that fate. I lay on the lumpy pile of clothes, my almost-wife squeezed in my arms, staring up at the office ceiling as she speaks. “So much. You wouldn’t believe how much. And that I’m sorry to back out of our deal, but that I can’t do this anymore. I can’t marry you, Stig.”

My eyes fall closed, and I’m tumbling headlong into a void, crashing into numbness and despair. Cold prickles through my veins, spreading deeper into my body—

“Not like this,” Jana adds in a whisper.

My eyes slam open.

“Like this?” My heart shudders back to life, beating once, twice, three times. “What do you mean, like this?”

Jana shrugs, her body shifting against mine. Her voice is so tiny and sad as she says, “When it’s not real.”

The earth moves, tilting beneath me, and then I move, tipping Jana over to one side. She squeaks, clinging to my shoulders, and I rearrange us so that she’s lying on the clothes, spread out flatter this time. My would-be fiance blinks up at me, sweet and baffled, as I stroke her messy hair.

“It is real.” My voice is ruined tonight, so hoarse and gravelly after calling out for Jana in the woods, but I force out each word so it’s crystal clear. There’s no room for misunderstandings; no room for her to mishear. She needs to know this. She needs to understand. “It’s always been real for me, Jana.”

Her lips part in shock.

“But your bet—”

“This is the bet.” And damn that white lie, now that it’s caused me so much trouble. I should have just been honest from the start, laying all my cards on the table. Should have told my squatter, the very night I found her sleeping in my bed: Don’t go. I think I already love you. It would have sounded insane, sure, but there wouldn’t be this godawful doubt in Jana’s eyes now.

“I saw you; I wanted you. Simple as that. Then I made up that marriage-on-paper stuff as an excuse to keep you around. I bet myself that I could make you fall in love with me for real. Not for an ego boost,” I add when she huffs and starts wriggling, making like she might want to push me off, “as a matter of survival. I need you, Jana.”

My squatter stills beneath me, her hands on my shoulders and her bare body pressed against mine. Already, her warmth is seeping into my skin, my muscles, my bones, chasing the shivers away. I already owed Jana Kumara so much, and now I owe her this too. She’s saved me from myself all over again.

“That’s why I made up our deal. That’s why I followed you tonight. When I woke up and found you gone…”

I pause, swallowing against the mounting horror. The sickly, awful memory that will surely haunt me to my deathbed. Jana exhales, cupping my cheek, and I press against her hand.

Life. I’m coming back to life. Warm again.

“When I found you gone… fuck, sweetheart. It’s like you tore my heart out and took it with you.”

Jana whimpers, leaning up to kiss my neck. And that, finally, gives me the courage to beg: “Don’t do that again, Jana. Don’t leave me like that.”

She shakes her head between kisses, her short hair tickling my chin, and promises: “I won’t. Stig, I won’t.”

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