Cipher’s hand stopped moving and everyone stared at me.
“I felt that,” Macon said and thumped his chest.
“Me too,” Gizmo agreed.
“Lord, I miss my daddy,” Macon suddenly bawled, covering his face with both hands. I rolled toward him so that I could comfort him with a hug. Cipher laid a hand on one shoulder and Gizmo the other while Macon cried in my arms for his father. After a few minutes of quiet sobbing, he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Thanks, guys.”
Cipher pulled me back into his lap, and we were quiet for a spell as I imagined all the people in my life I’d loved and lost, and those who were still with me, including the three men currently riding this swell of emotion alongside me, and I remembered what Artemis said about life being like a television show that your departed family and friends were watching. I sensed my mother was with me then and my father too. I hoped that I might make them proud. I said a prayer for my brother’s safety and told him I missed him too. Gizmo started talking about the nature of the universe, which was one of his favorite subjects.
“The distances between galaxies, on average, grows with time. And that’s it. There's no center, there's no edge, it just keeps expanding…”
While he spoke, I thought about all of the stars in the sky and the planets too, the galaxies growing like a fetus in a womb, getting bigger and bigger as time went on. Life and death and the birth of galaxies, all miracles to behold. I turned and whispered to Cipher, the shell of his ear just beyond my lips, “That’s how I feel about you. There is no center and no end, and it just grows and grows.”
He gave me the look he sometimes did, as if he were in pain. I wished that I could eat up all of his sadness, just gobble it down like a starving black hole.
“I’m not sure there would be anything left if you did,” he said softly.
I touched my fingertip to the corner of his eye and collected a single, sparkling tear. “I’d still love you.”
* * *
The restof the night was a blur, though I do remember Cipher staying by my side the entire time. We ate dinner around a fire Macon had built, then laid out on blankets and pillows we’d dragged from inside. It was like old times, only without the threat of a Rabid attack. When it was finally time for bed, Cipher guided me upstairs, helped me to brush my teeth and undress, then held me in his arms until I fell asleep.
Now it was morning, the effects of the mushrooms had worn off, and I worried I might be in trouble with my boyfriend. He was straddling the open window, wearing a faded black t-shirt and boxer briefs that showed off his powerful thighs, muscles taut even in rest, smoking a cigarette while gazing out at the neighborhood, and it struck me that he was always in two places at once. One part of him was here in this bedroom with me, another part was thinking about our next moves, or perhaps dwelling on his painful past. Even at times like this when we were relatively safe, it seemed as if he was still being hunted.
“Morning,” he said, noticing I was awake. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, you?”
“Good enough,” he said, which may have meant not at all. I worried for him, but there was only so much I could do.
“Where are the others?” I asked, noticing the unusual quiet in the house.
“They’ve gone out already.”
“You didn’t wake me up?”
“You needed your sleep, and I’d rather stay here with you.”
“You didn’t want to leave me alone?” I asked, wondering if he felt the need to protect me, even now.
He crushed the cigarette on the windowsill and placed the end of it in an old aluminum can. “I didn’t want to leave you,” he said with purpose.
I nodded cautiously and wondered if I’d done anything to embarrass him yesterday or last night. I’d said a lot of things, only some of which I could recall. My already loose filter was practically nonexistent while on mushrooms, and Cipher didn’t like to share his private life with others.
“I’m sorry,” I said, figuring a blanket apology might cover my bases.
He tilted his head, curious. “What for?”
“I was pretty out of it yesterday. Definitely high and maybe a little bit… rude?”
His sudden smile put me more at ease. “You weren’t rude. Who knew you were such a philosopher while on ‘shrooms?”
“Who knew?” I said with uncertainty. My memories were watercolor brushstrokes across a canvas, all blurred together. “What exactly did I say?”
His grin widened. “You were pretty passionate about Bella and Edward’s relationship.”
I smiled, embarrassed all over again. “I see some similarities between us, I guess.”
