Every little thing inside me clenched. If I’d been made out of gears, I’d have gone out of sync in that moment.
My eyes closed. My smile fell. I held onto his hands that crossed over my chest.
This was the March that I knew. The March that he was when we first met. The March that gave me his all, every time, no questions asked.
Except…he wasn’t that March anymore. And I wasn’t that Ora, either.
“I’m far from amazing.” Another truth. Maybe I had been before—to him, that is—but now…
“That wasn’t your fault,” March said, because he knew exactly what I was talking about.
I said nothing for a while, just closed my eyes and felt the heat of him, indulged in his warmth and his kisses.
“What else did you get?” I eventually asked. I was curious, but I was also…restless again. Like before. “What were the other options?”
He’d chosen to give up trust, but what else had been in those mirrors for him? It was comical that I’d gotten the options I’d gotten, when Mimi, for example, had only had to give up her fear of spiders, and Reggie his daydreaming, and Russ his nostalgia.
“Rage,” March whispered. “And compassion.”
My body froze. “Why did you choose trust?” I wondered.
“Because I thought it was the easiest to live without,” March said. “Why did you choose compassion?”
“Because my other options were fear and strength.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”Fuckwas about right. “To be honest, I didn’t reallybelievethat I’d be leaving the actual feeling behind. I never even considered that I could be stripped of something like compassion. I wasn’t capable of imagining what that would be like.” I didn’t know, either, but I did feel the empty spot inside me. Clearly.
“Me, neither,” March said, and kissed my temple. “This game is…”
His voice trailed off, but I could finish for him. “It’s not a game at all. It’s a trap.”
“Do you think we’ll get them back?”
I shook my head. “That’s what I went to ask Master Talik about. He had no answer,” I said, because I was too much of a coward to tell himno.I really didn’t think I would be getting that emptiness inside me fulfilled again any time soon. But perhaps in time…
“You chose well, considering,” March said.
I knew this, but it did make me curious, “Why didn’tyouchoose compassion? Trust is important. Compassion, on the other hand…it just means you don’t really care about other people, and that’s a good thing for this place…isn’t it?” Of course, I was only trying to justify my own choice, and I was twelve-hours certain March knew this.
For a moment, he was silent, only caressed my cheek with his, intertwined his fingers with mine.
“I don’t think that’s all it is,” he finally whispered. “Compassion doesn’t just mean caring about other people—it means being affected by them, too. It means being…softenedby them.”
“You want to besoft?”I said—an attempt to joke, to lighten up the mood, notfor him,mind you, but for myself. For the tears that had gathered in my eyes and had turned my view blurry.
March chuckled and my toes curled. “Sometimes, I guess. I want to be in tune with others.” A kiss on my jaw. “With you.”
He was, though. His body was perfectly in tune with mine.
“What’s it like?” he then asked me, and it might be themost difficult question I’d ever considered answering, but tonight was different. Tonight was not for lies.
“It’s like…relief doesn’t quite land,” I said. “And everyone feels distant. And survival is just…I don’t know.Empty.” That’s the best way I could describe it with words.
Another long moment of silence where March held me to him with all his strength.
“It’s not the same withyouas it is with everyone else,” he said. “I am still second-guessing every word you say, but…it’s different. Your memories in my head—they make everything different.”
