Page 4 of Say You'll Stay

She could take one of his granola bars.

That’s doing a lot right there, more than anyone else. He won’t sit around feeling bad about it, not for one second.

At least, not until he turns to face her, and he knows exactly what she’s about to ask before she even says it.

“Please don’t leave us.” Her voice cuts through the silencein a barely there whisper, mindful of drawing the wrong attention. “I can keep her quiet, I promise. I can be useful. We won’t be any trouble.”

Shit.

Olivia’s watching him like she’s afraid to hope that he might not be a total asshole. He’s no one’s savior. Doesn’t want the responsibility they’ll saddle him with or the guilt he’ll feel when something goes wrong, but instead of doing the logical thing and leaving them behind…he adds another stupid choice to a long list.

“Come on, then. We’re wasting time standing around.”

He hates how relieved she looks and that tentative smile she tries to give him, but even more than that, he hates that itfeels goodto be on the receiving end.

It would have been a lot easier to find a kitten instead.

Chapter 2

She has a baby.

She’s in a random apartment with a strange man.

She killed her husband.

A lot has happened in the last few hours and it’s all doing a decent job of scrambling Olivia’s brain. One of those might not be entirely true. Jason could have been dead already before the knife reached his skull. Faced with the choice of letting him eat their newborn or defending them both, she took the obvious option.

She doesn’t regret it, but the growl he made and the way he clawed and scratched as she fought him off still flashes on repeat in her mind. Just like Lucy’s birth, on a dirty bathroom floor, plays out again and again like a horror movie. Olivia aches all over. She remembers every contraction and every searing burn of the delivery, but when she looks down at the bundle in her arms, so beautiful and perfect andhers, it’s easy to shove that to the back burner and smile down at her child.

Cole’s given her the bed in this studio apartment he led her back to. The idea of a nap sounds like bliss, but she’s too on edge for that despite the woozy, dazed fuzz she can’t shake.

He’s in the kitchen, doing something out of sight. She hasn’t had a chance to feed Lucy yet, so she uncovers a swollenbreast and offers her baby a first meal.

In a world lacking formula, she fears the consequences if they don’t get the hang of this fast, but Lucy finds her target and Olivia breathes a sigh of relief. She shuts her eyes and leans back against the pillows while endorphins flood her nerves and tries not to think about how filthy she is, or how her whole body alternates from numbness to blazing inferno.

They’re alive. That’s all that matters now.

“Oh shit. Sorry. I’ll be in here. Let me know when it’s okay.”

Cole’s voice startles her, but she’s always been jumpy. It’s an ingrained reflex after years of a violent marriage. That’s not going away anytime soon. Not even after leaving Jason on that bathroom floor.

She’s too exhausted and preoccupied to give a shit if the remainder of the human race wants to stare at her breastfeeding. A woman in her Lamaze class told the whole group that after her third child, she wouldn’t care if the janitor at the hospital wanted to watch the miracle of birth. Olivia laughed then, not understanding how easy it could be to abandon thoughts of modesty after feeling like she’d been hit by a truck.

It is important for her to keep things on good terms with Cole, though. Can’t make him uncomfortable. Can’t make him think too hard about what he’s agreed to. He is their only chance at survival, and it’s her job to keep him happy. Good thing she’s got plenty of practice in that area.

“You can come out,” she says, after draping a blanket over her shoulder to hide the baby.

He emerges from the kitchen with two bowls of soup and her stomach growls at the promise of food.

“Gas stove still works, and I got some of those ramenpackages. Not much but it’s dinner tonight.” He places her meal down on the side table before taking up a chair a few feet away.

“Thank you.”

He only grunts in reply and eats like he’s starving. Slurps on the spoon and leaves noodles hanging from his mouth. It’s not that she minds, but she’s never seen anyone attack their food so ferociously and it’s difficult not to slide him the occasional glance. His dark hair is a short but wild mess, and the scruff on his face has a sparse silver dusting. It all adds to the overall picture of someone half-feral, but she won’t jump to conclusions, either.

She’s starving, too. Has been since before the world ended, when her husband rationed her food for amusement. She curbs the desire to mimic Cole until he drinks the broth from the bowl and she thinks,fuck it.Abandons her attempt at maintaining manners and does the same thing once she’s eaten most of the noodles.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

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