"Unless..."
Adam flinches but doesn't take his eyes off me. "Unless...?"
"We could pretend we've never met before."
He frowns, cocks his head. "Just forget each other ever existed? Not sure that's going to be entirely possible. Especially now that I know you're still alive."
"No, I mean, like...Shit, this is stupid."
"No more stupid than any other idea you've ever had, I bet."
"Funny, Locke. Hilarious."
"Okay, okay, tell me. What's this stupid thought of yours?"
"We forget the last seventy years and make out this is our first meeting. We don't know each other."
"And what? Introduce ourselves as if we're strangers, then...?"
I shrug. "We see what happens. You're sorry, I'm sorry, no point grieving over people who don't exist anymore. Right? They're dead; we're still alive."
Adam looks down at the carpet, hands on his hips, not exactly an aggressive stance, but he looks for all the world like he can't work out what planet I've just arrived from.
Then he looks up. And holds out his hand.
"Adam Locke. I don't believe we've met."
My short burst of laughter is tinged with loss, but more relief. I take his hand and introduce myself. "Nathan. Nathan Stephenson. I was a sergeant a long time ago."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Nathan."
I can't be sure, but somewhere in the sliver of space between our joined hands and the promise to start again, something long-dormant stirs.
Sometimes, things we think are dead are merely sleeping.
About the Author
Scarlett Parrish is allegedly human and lives somewhen in this dimension. In between feeding her insatiable appetite for James Purefoy DVDs, smut-reading and chocolate biscuits, she wonders if she'll ever get a good night's sleep.
At the moment, she's probably writing another dirty book. Or thinking about Michael Fassbender. Or both.
Blog: http://scarlettparrish.blogspot.com/
