No. I can’t think about that. Not now.
I spit and walk into my bedroom, grabbing jammies for both of us.
“Face wash or no?” I toss her her jammies as I change quickly. Who knows if she will bother with hers.
She does. She slips her shorts off while still sitting and brushing her teeth. It’s definitely an Olympic sport.
“No.” Now kneeling, she spits into the sink. I can see her slowly coming back online. No longer too drunk to function. She gets dressed quickly. “Not worth it.”
“Let’s get some sleep before the sun comes up.” I turn the lights out and help her into bed. Where she steals my good pillow and I let her have it, of course.
I’m not a monster. Besides, I have two.
I curl into bed beside Alex. In the darkness, the city breathes. In the distance I can hear sirens. A bus. A honk. Somewhere a dog barks.
White noise.
I close my eyes, only to open them when I see him choking Alex behind my lids.
Her eyes are open and she’s staring right at me.
“What do you think happens to us when we die?” she asks.
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Drunk thoughts are bad thoughts, Alex.”
“No, no, hear me out.” She rolls onto her back, a soft smile on her lips as she closes her eyes. “I think our bodies are just flesh.”
“A meat suit.”
“And inside our soul lives.” She rolls back over, scooting closer. “I think we become that soul.”
“When we die?” I ask, and my voice cracks.
And all I can think is how he turned a woman into nothing tonight. Dahlia. Her body is meat now. Disposed of. Gone.
But maybe Alex is right. Maybe the soul—the energy—that’s what matters. That’s what can’t be destroyed.
Maybe Dahlia is still out there. Somewhere. Not gone. Just—changed.
Maybe that’s the only justice I can give her. Believing she’s more than a body in a dumpster.
“Yes, we become energy. Pure energy.” She whispers like it’s a secret.
“Conservation of energy. You’re talking about physics.”
“Yeah, but can’t you feel it?” She presses her hand to my heart. “Right here. Can’t you feel it hum?”
“I feel your hand.” I thread her fingers through mine. “And you are all I need.”
“You’re all I need.” She yawns. “My dandelion.”
“My dandelion.” I whisper back, but somehow she’s already asleep.
If we make it to thirty-five, I think. If Dom doesn’t discover what I know. If we survive this.
