Page 39 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

Pain crashed through Elliot’s jaw, then he felt a hard strike to his back, like he’d landed on bricks. He cried out, not having meant to, and Alexander’s frantic voice was pleading, but Elliot couldn’t hear the words.

When Elliot blinked again, Jared was right there, nose to nose, so close he could feel his hot, stinky breath. Elliot knew more pain would be coming. He thought it was over. It was supposed to be over, because Elliot had escaped. He ran away to Genevieve, with nothing more than a pretty pink suitcase and the money he stole from Jared’s wall safe. He made it all that way, and now it was as if he’d made no progress at all. Elliot closed his eyes, because he knew there was no escaping Jared’s wrath.

“Please,” he pleaded, but his voice was barely audible. “Please don’t make me go back. I don’t want to go back. I want Alexander.”

“I’m here, baby. I’m right here.” Then, featherlike kisses were left in trails across his forehead. Up and down his cheek. On Elliot’s lips. Kiss after kiss, the memory of Jared faded until the only thing left was Alexander’s lips pressed against his. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, Elliot.”

Elliot shook his head because that couldn’t be true. If he was safe, why was his back still hurting? It was just a cruel trick by Mother. Pre-programmed data, meant to give him a moment’s peace. For all Elliot knew, Mother created a simulated world where he could temporarily live out a love story before being snapped back into his unlovable life.

He blinked his eyes open, surprised to see Alexander staring down at him, cupping his cheeks.

“There’s my sweet boy.” He leaned down and brushed their lips together; then Elliot was being lifted off the floor and cradled in Alexander’s arms. “You’re okay, I promise.”

“What is happening to me?” Elliot sobbed, burying his face in Alexander’s neck. “I closed my eyes and he was here. He was right in front of me.” As Elliot shook in Alexander’s arms, Alexander softly stroked his back, assuring him he was safe. Promising he wouldn’t let go.

When Elliot finally managed to compose himself, he sat up straight and dried his eyes, wanting to shift off Alexander’s lap. Elliot was malfunctioning. His body and mind were no longer aligned, and he feared it might happen again. But as he looked into Alexander’s caring eyes, he pushed that fear aside. A problem for another day.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, sniffling. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You never have to apologize to me.”

Elliot nodded. “I understand if you’ve changed your mind. I don’t know what happened to me, and I don’t know if it’s going to happen to me again. If you want me to go, I’ll understand.”

Alexander shook his head decidedly. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He brushed Elliot’s hair out of his eyes. “Can you tell me about what you saw, or do you need some time?”

Elliot shut his eyes. “I can’t. Alexander, it’s . . . I thought he was back. I thought this was just a dream. Me and you.”

Alexander’s lips brushed against Elliot’s, then he gave him a gentle kiss. “I promise, you’re not dreaming. I’m real. This is real.” There was gentle pressure against Elliot’s bump, and when he looked down, Alexander had his palm over it. Looking up, Elliot realized Alexander was staring at his stomach with an undeniable look of appreciation. “She is real, and she’s going to be so happy. We all are.”

Elliot wasn’t sure if that was true, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice but to believe the man. He stood from the floor and inspected his back in the mirror, trying to pinpoint the source of his pain. Sure enough, there was a small gash across his back, like someone made a minor incision.

“What happened to my back?”

“You started writhing around in my arms. I tried to hold on to you, but I wasn’t strong enough. You fell off the bed and landed against the corner of the bed frame.” Alexander stood and stared at the cubelike piece of iron poking out from under the bed. “I ought to sue.”

“You promise this is real? You promise you’re not a dream? Alexander, I can’t go back. He would kill me. I know he would.”

Alexander approached from behind and wrapped his arms around Elliot’s waist. “I’m real, you’re real, and Professor Plum is real.” He kissed Elliot’s neck. “I promise.”

Alexander couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at peace.

Actually, no. That was a lie.

Alexander could pinpoint the exact date and time he felt the same sense of completion. It happened on a lonely ferry dock, back on Sugarplum Island. Things were different then. Elliot was a broken man with no hope for his future. Now he was overflowing with love and laughter.

They spent their entire morning lounging by the pool, laughing with each other, the pair telling stories from their younger days. Later, they attended a show shortly after lunch. As they sat in a small auditorium, just a few rooms down from the dining hall, their hands rested together on the center armrest, fingers intertwined, Elliot’s head on Alexander’s shoulder.

The room roared to life around them, music blasting out of the sound system, spotlights shining shades of blues and purples and impossible pinks. It reminded Alexander of what he saw on Elliot’s user interface when he placed him in stasis the night before. As the music played on, Mrs. Peppercorn took to the stage, launching into an old song about going downtown. As she explained, the lights were much brighter downtown, and how easy it would be to forget all their worries and cares, she twisted and twirled, performing seemingly well-practiced choreography.

“Everything’s waiting for you,” she sang directly to Elliot, approaching slowly, the microphone’s cord stretching to its limit as she walked down the three steps leading to them. When it became evident that the cord wouldn’t reach, she held a hand up, shouting, “Pause, pause, pause!” She glared at the man in charge of the sound system—the man from the storage closet, Rodolfo—and aimed an accusatory finger at him. “What in the world is this about?” She lifted the cord and shook it furiously before turning toward Elliot. “Baby, cover your ears, because you’re about to see a battleaxe at play.”

Elliot turned to Alexander with a confused expression. “I don’t know what that means.”

Alexander quickly shook his head, fearful of Honey Peppercorn’s wrath. He saw her pour an entire bottle of champagne down a potential suitor’s pants for daring to address her as anything other than ma’am. Not wanting Elliot to have to listen to the authoritative tone again, he covered Elliot’s ears with his hands and smiled at him, brushing their noses together.

By the end of her tirade, Mrs. Peppercorn had been given a cordless microphone by Rodolfo, and a glass of lemon rosewater that Alexander watched Mayor Rivera drop two small pink pills into. As Alexander opened his mouth to alert Mrs. Peppercorn that she was about to be drugged by a potentially problematic small-town mayor, Beau shook his head, mouthing, “she needs rest. I gave her two earlier, too.” He lifted a box of over-the-counter allergy medication and discretely waved it back and forth for emphasis. It was an observation Alexander agreed with, because he couldn’t remember Mrs. Peppercorn taking a single moment to rest since arriving on the boat.

“Is he sedating Mrs. Peppercorn?” Elliot asked.

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