Page 123 of Last Light

But that was just a childish daydream. I should have known better.

Nothing good lasts in this world.

All of it gets taken away.

I jerk when I feel something wet against my cheek, and I realize it’s the dog snuffling at my face.

I thought he would stay with Travis. I shake with emotion as I make room for him in the space between my body and the wall. He gives my face a soft lick, as if he senses something’s wrong. Then he curls up and goes right to sleep.

I hug him against me, taking comfort in his warm, furry body. His soft snores.

At least the dog loves me.

Wants me.

Everything is different now.

Travis isn’t mine.

I’ve got to get used to being alone.

I try to be strong, but I’m not as strong as I want. A few tears leak out of my eyes.

“There you are.”

The voice surprises me so much I jerk dramatically, causing the dog to lift his head and give me a sleepy glare.

It’s Travis. He’s kneeling down beside me.

“I was lookin’ all over for you.”

“I’ve been right here.” I try to sound normal but fail miserably.

“Shoulda told me you were goin’ to bed.” His tone is light, natural, but then he must get a good look at me. He reaches down and swipes one of my tears with his thumb. “Oh darlin’.”

I can’t stop shaking now. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping it will keep the tears from falling. I’m still lying with my back to the room, my back to Travis.

He unzips the sleeping bag and lifts up the top fold so that he can get under it. Since I won’t turn over, he fits himself against my back, wrapping his arm around me.

Because of the dog’s position in front of me, Travis has to hold on to both me and the dog.

I shake and sniff and try not to sob as he spoons me.

“I’m so sorry,” Travis murmurs after a minute. “I’m so sorry, Layne.”

I think he’s talking about Cheryl. He’s letting me know that he understands. That he can’t be with me like we used to be, and he’s sorry it hurts me.

I’m sure that’s what he’s talking about.

Then his soft, hoarse voice wafts against my ear. “I’m sorry it’s not what we hoped it’d be. I’m sorry Fort Knox couldn’t keep us safe. I’m sorry there’s so few of us left. I’m so sorry there’s no safe place left for you. I’m sorry so many of us died.”

I’m crying for real now. He sounds so tender.

“It’s not right. That you got everythin’ taken away from you. Even the hope of Fort Knox. It’s not right that you don’t have no one left.”

I sniff hard and wipe my cheek on the sleeping bag. “I have the dog.”

He gives a broken huff. “Yeah. Right. You got the dog.”

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