Page 39 of Shattered Love

The gap between us lessened, his body leaning toward mine. My hand still rested on his thigh as his hand reached up to cup my face. There were no more words shared between us.

His lips ghosted over mine. A breath, a whisper, and then he was gone. But the touch haunted me, leaving behind an imprint I would never forget.

The clearing of a throat had us jolting apart, my hand snatching away from his thigh as his hand dropped from my cheek. Turning toward the noise, I spotted Murphy, his hair askew from sleep.

He hadn’t been resting for long and I worried something was wrong. But then I noticed the small smile on his full lips, the brightness in his eyes. If I had any worries about Murphy’s feelings, they all washed away.

I returned the smile, holding out a hand. Murphy sauntered over to the couch, squeezing his body into the small space between Rainer and me. Slinging an arm over both our shoulders, he pulled us in tight.

I cuddled into the space, but Rainer pinched Murphy’s side, eliciting a yelp. “Ow, you asshole, what was that for?”

Rainer pulled out from under Murphy’s arm. “You smell terrible. Less is just too nice to tell you.”

Murphy looked down at me with a frown, but I only shrugged. He didn’t smell terrible to me. Although, we could probably all benefit from a shower. If only that was a possibility.

“Let’s be honest, we all probably smell,” I deadpanned.

Murphy leaned down, sniffing my neck like a dog, before doing the same to Rainer. Rainer shoved his head away, Murphy breaking out in laughter.

The joyful sound had Rainer and me laughing as well, the three of us leaning against the couch cushions, an easiness surrounding the space.

Murphy sighed with content. “Two of my favorite people in one place. Doesn’t get much better than this.”

“If only people stopped trying to kidnap us,” Rainer said.

I glanced at him with wide eyes, my mouth agape. “Did you just make a joke?”

Murphy laughed at my teasing and Rainer rolled his eyes, muttering, “Little shit.”

His muttering had our laughter bellowing, my stomach cramping from the ache. Months ago, I never thought I’d laugh like this again. That my smile would stretch my cheeks. But these men, these people, were teaching me how to find the light in even the darkest of times.

“I can imagine you two growing up. All the trouble you got into,” I said, and the two shared a kindred smile.

“Remember when we snuck out of your house to toilet paper my house?” Rainer asked Murphy.

Murphy closed his eyes, imagining the moment, his smile bright. “My mom was so mad we snuck out, but she couldn’t stay mad once she realized we pranked your house instead.”

“And my parents were convinced it was the kids down the street, the ones that used to egg cars,” Rainer continued.

The two reminisced for a while longer, sharing long ago stories about all the trouble they had gotten into, while I listened, loving the fact I got to learn more about them.

Eventually, as it always did, the happiness faded, the sorrow replacing the joy.

“Where do you think they are now?” Murphy asked.

This time, Rainer threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling Murphy into his side. “I’m sure they’re together. My parents wouldn’t leave Josie behind.”

Murphy seemed to take comfort in that statement. “I wish they knew what was going on. That they had a chance.”

He said the words like it was a done deal. That there were no other options. I tracked the living room, spotting photos of the family that had lived here, just like the other house. The unfairness of the situation hit me in the chest once again.

Why couldn’t there be other options? Why were we the only people in the world that had a choice, the opportunity to fight for our survival?

Ideas formed in my head and Murphy clicked his tongue. “I know that face. What’s going on in here?” He tapped my temple.

As the ideas blossomed, I wasn’t able to sit, standing up and pacing in front of them. We couldn’t save everyone, I knew that, even if it killed me. They had already created the bunkers, and there wasn’t enough space for the entirety of the continent.

But that didn’t mean everyone didn’t deserve a chance. Or, hell, at least deserve to know that they only had a few months left. Everyone deserved the opportunity to say goodbye.

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