Page 57 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

Elliot couldn’t respond, but when Alexander took his hand, Elliot’s grip was relentless. He made a lot of horrible sounds that sounded like he was in agony, each limb going limp, one at a time. Before the final breath left him, he opened his eyes and whispered, “I love . . .”

When Elliot woke, something felt different. Warmer, perhaps? Calmer? It felt that way. The air around him didn’t feel thick like molasses, locking him in place. It felt light. He opened his left eye, then his right, taking in his surroundings. He was in a bedroom that looked like it belonged in a quaint cottage. There was a large window looking out on a small beach, the sea just in the distance. There was a summery sweet fragrance of saltwater and—for some reason—freshly baked bread.

At his side, Alexander Davenport was sleeping peacefully, looking younger under the spell of sleep. Gone were the worried wrinkles that often creased his forehead. There was no inherent look of panic on his face, like the look he often wore when worrying about Elliot’s future. Elliot hated the stress his reappearance had caused Alexander thus far, but worse, he hated himself for holding onto Alexander anyway. He knew by latching himself onto Alexander he would bring him unnecessary trouble, but Elliot was too selfish to let go. He wanted to cling to Alexander, allowing him to take Elliot’s problems onto himself so Elliot wouldn’t have to face them alone.

He stared at Alexander for over half an hour before Alexander’s eyes fluttered open. A smile stretched across his face when he caught sight of Elliot, and he lifted his arm, inviting Elliot to cuddle close. It was an offer Elliot couldn’t refuse, so he nestled in next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting his head against Alexander’s chest.

“Where are we?” Elliot asked.

Alexander kissed his forehead. “This is our bedroom.” The grip he had on Elliot was relentless, as if he was afraid to let go. “I’m sorry about last night. I should have been keeping track of your power supply.” His finger tugged at Elliot’s chin, lifting his gaze until they were staring eye to eye. “Watching you power down was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so sorry, Elliot.”

Elliot inched closer, kissing Alexander softly on the lips. “I’m okay. I’ve powered down enough times that I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m not,” Alexander said bitterly, though Elliot didn’t think the bitterness was aimed at him. Alexander’s expression was solemn, and Elliot worried that now that Alexander had seen behind the curtain—witnessing Elliot in a powered down state—he would no longer want him. While powered down, Elliot was a shell of a man. No signs of life. No signs of death. Just an unmoving heap of manufactured skin and steel. Then there was his child. Each time Elliot powered down, she did, too, extending his pregnancy by however long he was out.

“I’m sorry you had to see me that way. I know it must have been alarming. If you’ve changed your mind, I—”

Alexander quickly shook his head. “I haven’t. I just need to make sure I pay more attention to your power supply. The other day, I promised I’d never make you power down again, and then the first night on our own, I failed you.” Alexander broke their eye contact, staring down at Elliot’s chest. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

“You haven’t let me down.” There was the sensation of popping bubbles beneath his skin again, and Elliot smiled, taking Alexander’s hand and guiding to the baby bump. “She’s kicking again.”

Alexander smiled down at Elliot’s tummy. “I can’t believe this is real. I never thought I’d have the chance to be a father.”

“You’ll make a wonderful father.”

“You think so?”

Elliot nodded. “You’ve looked out for me all this time. I have no doubt you’ll do the same for her.”

“I will.” They laid there a while, hands flush against Elliot’s tummy, feeling for movement. Elliot discovered if he lightly poked at the small, foot-shaped bump and dragged his finger away, it would follow his path like it was trying to keep up.

He couldn’t wait to meet her. Before making his way back to Alexander, Elliot contemplated finding a way to terminate the pregnancy. He wasn’t sure how it would work, considering automaton pregnancy was new and something Mother herself barely understood. But he feared so many things. How was he meant to be the first of his kind, leading them into a golden age, when he could barely look strangers in the eye? How was he meant to raise a child when he had no idea what he was doing? And then there was guilt. Guilt for contemplating ending the pregnancy. Had she known? Could she tell the relief he felt each time the thought crossed his mind? Did she hate him for it? It wasn’t that he necessarily regretted weighing his options, because he knew it ought to be his right to choose his own destiny, but the thought of her knowing felt like one of Jared Price’s punches to the gut.

“I was thinking we could spend the morning in the village. There’s a general store by the bakery, and they have a whole section for babies. We could pick out a crib. We’ll need to stock up on diapers and wipes while we’re at it.” Alexander paused, chewing his cheek. “Actually, we could probably have a custom crib made for her. We’ll stop at the hardware store while we’re out and about. We can make a day of it.”

“I would like that very much,” Elliot agreed. “Could we stop by Twylah’s Sugarplum Treats? I’ve smelled baked bread since I first woke, and I believe I would like a cookie.” He nibbled his bottom lip, because it wasn’t just a cookie he was craving. There was a strong overwhelming need for something savory to go with the sweet treat. “And something salty, if it isn’t too much trouble. I can’t explain it—it’s as if my tummy is demanding it. I’ve never craved food before, aside from the plum jam cookie I brought to Georgia, so I’m not sure why the urge is so strong.”

Alexander smiled knowingly. Good. If Alexander knew what was causing the craving, perhaps he could help Elliot overcome them. “Well, the smell of baked bread is from Mom’s bakery. Most of the island smells like sugary treats when she bakes in the morning. As for your demanding tummy, that’s probably just your pregnancy cravings. Mom said when she was pregnant with me, she couldn’t get enough ice cream and pickles. She would dip the pickles in the bowl and everything. After a while, she learned to make pickle-flavored ice cream She said she would mix in relish for texture.” Elliot thought he was going to be sick. “She also had a recipe for onion pudding.”

Elliot gagged, quickly placing his hand over Alexander’s mouth. “I hate to silence you, because the sound of your voice is my favorite thing, but I’m going to have to insist you never mention onion pudding to me again.”

Alexander snorted, gently removing Elliot’s hand from his mouth and kissing his knuckles. “I promise. What do you say we get dressed and go out for breakfast? Mom makes a mean quiche.”

“Why is it mean?”

“Huh?”

“The quiche. Why is it mean?”

“Oh,” Alexander said with a chuckle. “It’s just an expression, sweetheart. I didn’t mean they’re literally mean.”

“Ah,” Elliot said, nodding. “I was worried it’s because she’s too rough on them with her whisk. I’m not the best cook, I’m afraid. Perhaps she can teach me some of her fabulous recipes, so I can make sure you’re properly fed.”

“I usually just get takeout.”

Elliot gaped at him. “As in fast food? No. I’m sorry, Alexander, but I cannot allow you to consume heavily processed foods. It’s not good for you. I’ll learn to cook, and then I’ll make you three meals a day. Possibly a snack or two as well.” He furrowed his brow. “Mother taught all her beaus to cook, but Master Price told her it wasn’t necessary with me. I believe he was worried I would cook meals for myself while he was away.” A smile quirked in the corner of Elliot’s mouth. “I would like to learn, though. I wish to cook for you. To clean for you. I want to make your life easier in whatever way I can.”

“I promise you don’t have to fuss over me. I don’t expect you to cook and clean for me all the time. Besides, I won’t need lunch most days. I usually just send my assistant out for something.”

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