Page 47 of Wild Life

Maris

Three nights had passed since Cryp—Aleki—had poured his story out to me and I hadn’t said more than a handful of words when his apology tour was over. I was grateful he had finally shared the full truth, but I was still upset that he’d lied. And more upset with myself that I had been intimate with a man who had been lying to me.

I had slept outside on the hammock each night, even though he’d argued with me to take the bed. Poaka had also tried to get back into my good graces by slumbering outside with me. I had, of course, forgiven him because he was a pig, and had promised to never to threaten to turn him into bacon again.

Life was lonelier than before, despite this new knowledge that Aleki could speak. It wasn’t so much that I was mad at him anymore. Instead, I was annoyed with myself for entertaining the cock of a guy I barely knew, like I had back home. Only time and space would allow me to forgive myself before ever forgiving Aleki. Yet again, my personal baggage was meddling in my relationship with men.

The trees rustled before Aleki and Poaka emerged from the thicket. The pig jetted for me and nuzzled his nose into my lap. I patted his spotted fur, greeting only him. “Where were you all day?” I asked.

Aleki’s jaw relaxed with the conversation, even if I was just speaking to Poaka.

“We brought you m-mangoes.” He rested a woven basket full of red fruit in front of me. He knew I loved them, and he was doing everything he could to get back into my good graces, too.

He had also been freer to speak around me, which improved the flow of his words. The stutter didn’t bother me. I understood that decades without human conversation must have weakened his communication skills. As he practiced more, he progressed, independent of whether or not I replied back.

“Thanks,” I said with no desire to eat them.

He let out a sigh and knelt in front of me, before peeling one of the mangoes with his teeth as an offering, just like he had the first time he had ever brought me to the mango tree. I didn’t accept. He dropped the fruit onto the ground and Poaka, of course, jumped at the opportunity, chomping loudly on the rejected fruit.

“How long are you going to keep ignoring me?” Aleki asked, crestfallen. Emotions must have been hard for him, since he had lived most of his life without human interaction. I could only imagine how numb his mind had become after doing the same thing day in and day out for over two decades, but I was the epitome of mood swings. One minute, I could be anxious, the next excited by fun stationery supplies with cute animals on them, and then swerve a harsh left toHangry-ville. And it was all normal for someone like me, who had lived most of her life in a modern, fast-paced world.

So I replied as any self-respecting woman would, in modern-world text talk. “IDK. K. Byeee.”

Aleki let out a hiss. “Stop using your weird m-modern slang so I can’t understand you. I want to learn, but you’re not m-making this easier.”

I had found it entertaining to use chat language with him, putting in little effort while still retaining my amusement.

He rose to his full height, his arms crossing over his chest and his shadow cloaking me from the late afternoon sun. “You’re acting like a mean girl,” he scolded.

My mouth fell open. “How do you know what amean girlis? Your vocabulary is basically the regurgitation of your dad’s eighties-era dictionary.”

“That’s right.” He grinned. He had been doing that a lot more lately, especially with every snide remark that left my lips. Must’ve been because he could finally share the load of his trauma with someone else and didn’t feel as weighed down. “I’m not a c-complete idiot, Maris. I know some things, too.”

God, I loved it when he said my name. I was also gladScreech Owlhadn’t stuck.

“Are you hiding a computer here, too?” I hit back.

“No, but I did find a magazine calledC-Cosmopolitanin a plastic bin that washed up yesterday.” His New Zealand accent was very strong andvery sexy. A lot about this man was sexy. However, I was a hard-ass who couldn’t get out of my head, which made it difficult for me to move on from fights. He had underdeveloped speech, while I had underdeveloped resolution skills.

“Did it have any good makeup tips? Because I could really use some concealer to cover up these mosquito bites on my chin.”

He let out a breath that made his strong shoulders sag. “Maris, I miss you.”

I stared back at him, steeling my heart. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but I miss how you were—how we were.”

“Like when I would be talking for hours, and you’d ignore me?”

“I never ignored you. My brain wouldn’t let me. I hear everything you say.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. It was hard to stay mad at the oaf when he was being so sweet.

“I just have a lot going on in my head right now,” I said, suddenly tired of launching daggers at him.

“Come with me.” He held his hand out.

I didn’t take it. “Why?”