22
Seb woke up in pain. It was physical, though, which was a relief after what seemed like days of what felt like his organs had been burnt, along with all his belongings and most of his life’s work.
Somewhere nearby, two people were speaking softly.
He groaned. His neck was twisted, and his left hand was trapped under his body, tingling with pins and needles as it tried to stay alive. He shifted and unwound himself. He’d been sleeping on a strange couch. Martin’s couch. Martin, who watched him with sad gray eyes and secret smiles. Martin, who tasted like coffee and salt and—
Smoke.
The memory made his stomach cramp. One minute he’d been lost in the warm recollection of Martin’s skin on his, his breath in his ear, and then—
Seb rolled. Closing his eyes and lying there until sleep came back would be easier. Sensation was coming back in his hand, and he shifted the pillow that was squashed in the corner of the couch to support his neck. Sleep. It would be better if he slept.
His stomach twisted. He might be hungry. Somewhere recently, he’d eaten french fries, but how recently, or where, or with who, he couldn’t say. If he’d had anything to drink, even water, since his whole life literally turned to ash, he really wasn’t sure.
He sat up, then braced himself against the couch cushions as his head spun. He stared up at the white ceiling, trying not to think. The memory was there, throbbing, just behind his conscious thought, and if he poked at it, he worried it would burst and drown him in what lay underneath.
Martin was in the kitchen. He had his back to Seb as he entered. Penny stood beside Martin, a glass of wine in her hand as she spoke to him quietly. He nodded and laughed at whatever she was saying. Her gaze shifted, and then her eyes widened when she saw Seb leaning against the doorway.
“Hey!” she said. “You’re up.”
“I’m—I was...” He didn’t recognize the sound of his voice. “I think I’m hungry.”
Penny smiled at him, and relief swept over Martin’s face as he turned, and it made Seb wonder what had happened. It felt like only hours since he and Martin had been tangled in bed, loving each other, happy, but it had to have been longer. Everything was patchy, moments of shock and despair separated by long periods of nothing. He assumed he’d been asleep for most of those, but how long, and whether he’d been awake for parts and didn’t remember, he wasn’t sure.
“Come sit.” Penny put an arm around his shoulders. He tensed under the weight, feeling brittle, but he let her lead him to the small table.
“Are you hungry?” Martin asked. “Penny brought some food from the diner.”
“Sure. And some water.”
Penny placed a glass down next to him, squeezing his shoulder. Martin set a plate of pulled pork and potato salad in front of him. The smell of it made Seb’s stomach curdle. He drank more water and waited for the feeling to go away.
It didn’t.
“On second thought...” He pushed the plate away.
“No. Please.” Martin sat on his other side. His voice was sad.
“I’m sorry,” Seb said. “I just...”
“You have to eat. Trust me, I know this. You need to eat something.”
It was all so overwhelming. Their concerned faces. The smell of the food. The throbbing thing in his chest that told him nothing would ever be the same.
“The insurance adjusters came to look at the diner today,” Penny said.
“Really?” Martin’s hand slipped into Seb’s. It felt like sandpaper on his skin.
“They said that even though there’s no visible damage, there could be smoke damage in the walls.”
“That makes sense. Can’t be too careful, right?”
The chitchat was obvious. If they weren’t pretending everything was all right, they were at least pretending life was going to go on.
Seb poked at the potato salad. It smelled faintly of eggs, and not in a good way, but he put a little in his mouth, and the people sitting around him let out a relieved exhale. He tried not to gag while he chewed.
“Can I get you anything else?” Martin sat at the edge of his chair, like he was ready to leap up at a moment’s notice. His eyes held a streak of panic Seb hadn’t seen in a long time.
