𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 88

Truth

2035

Valencia

I look at Aidan in disbelief. My jaw drops.

40 years? Does it make sense?

My thoughts are being whirled around from what he said. I grind my teeth.

"It happened nine years ago and I know it," I say sternly, starting to deny any evidence of what he said.

"No."

I stare at Aidan. "Yes. I know it, Damn it."

He sighs. "No. Forty years ago, Valencia. February Ninth, in 1995."

Him deliberately repeating it, I don't know what to say. I don't think I'll ever know and yet I don't want to believe it.

Aidan reaches out for my hands but I pull them back harshly.

"Don't. You don't know what you are saying!" I raise my voice.

"I do. You just don't know it, because you don't fucking remember!" His response is just as loud.

So this was what he wanted to tell me all along? This was why he was quiet at times and bit his lip? I'm speechless.

Aidan realizes and drops his head.

"Look, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you earlier. I just didn't want to pop your bubble," he sighs.

My voice turns ice cold. "What bubble? All I ever did was believe in what I saw. Not what has happened in the past. I mean, no one fucking told me!"

Aidan looks at me with tired eyes. Disappointed, I shake my head. I am mad.

"That is the problem, Valencia. I wanted you to find out for yourself."

"Do not call me that."

"What, your fucking name? How should I call you then, 'demented'?" he spits back and I feel our bond - whatever it was - crumble.

I am frustrated and angry - not directly at him, but at the truth that was laid out in front of me the whole time.

Pacing back and forth, I rub my temple. "I can't believe it."

Suddenly, my eyes dart up to his. "So what? Do you just expect me to stay here? Stay in this hellhole, stay with you?" I say.

Aidan bites his lip. This was a mistake. All of it. Since the beginning.

"We can talk about it," he suggests.

"No, the absolute fuck we're not."

Aidan rummages in his pockets and hands me a letter. "Then at least read this before I give you all the time and space you need to insult me even more."

My hands shake when I practically rip it out of his fingers.

My eyes trace the text written on it.

April 7th, 1995

Hello, Mum and Dad.

I don't know if you remember me. I wanted to say that I have made it to the Bronx. Hopefully, the conditions here are better than back in Florida. I hope you dare to come after me and I hope you survived that flooding.

With love, I will miss you.

– Maxine

"Forty years," Aidan firmly repeats.

My hands drop the letter and it floats to the ground.

"I should have never come here..." I mumble to myself as I shrug off the blanket around my shoulders. "It was a mistake from the first second."

"Well, it was either life or death for your brother. Plus, you got what you needed," Aidan comments, bends down and pockets the letter again.

I whirl around. "What?"

He shrugs. "The medicine?"

This makes me furious - this silence, this tension - all this time. Every conversation we have is disrupted by it and when we get close, one of us takes a step back.

I hate it. So fucking much. I can never tell the truth.

Firmly, I take a few steps toward him.

My lips part and I regret the words I speak the second they are out.

"You and I - we are done. You did your part," I can feel myself saying in his direction while my fingertips go numb.

"Oh yeah?" he whispers, looking down at me, his voice now cold too - so cold that I indeed get shivers - and his eyes narrow on mine.

"Yeah. You and Henry are the only people I have. Everyone else is dead. You were the last person alive to your knowledge, now you can go back to being that. There is nothing between us, absolutely fucking nothing. And there will never be," I say bitterly.

We are so close, that I can feel his warm breath on my skin and see the light speckles in his dark eyes - similar to what happened at the bookstore. The tension is so strong, I swear I could hear it sizzling in the air. Suddenly, I think back to the past - me balancing on the plank, jumping from the ladder, pinned against the bookshelf, sat on the bike rack and on the rooftop. Held in his arms.

The person I now despise most. Just by looking at me, he has me running in circles.

But he told me the truth - later than I should have known. And now my world and beliefs crumble and automatically, I blame him for it.

I tear my eyes away from his, turn on my heel and grab my belongings to stuff into my backpack. Before I head to the door, I pull Aidan's sweater over my head and toss it on the ground, right in front of his boots.

I am out of here!

As I turn away from him, I can hear Aidan scoff. "Where will you go?"

"Oh, trust me, I'll figure it out," I say bluntly. Then I walk through the doorway. Aidan doesn't go after me, this time.

Good.

"The door to my shelter is open if that's what you're getting at. Three turns, counterclockwise," he suddenly calls after me.

"I don't care," I whisper with tears burning in my eyes. I do care, more than I should, about him - a stranger. And that's the problem.