If This Is Love

by Jewel E. Ann

“The bonds we make by choice are stronger than the bonds of family (the water of the womb).”

I like the way my hand feels in Milo’s hand. Safe. Cared for.

Milo returns his gaze to me. “Self-destructive. You’d burn this whole place down before you’d let anyone tell you what to do, who to marry, or how to think.”

but I want the real deal.” “Indie, I like watching you. And it’s real. Does that make you feel better?”

Biggest. Lie. Ever.

Benton kneels on the bottom stair, eyeing me confidently while he peels off my thong, bringing it to his nose and taking a long inhale. Not much embarrasses me, but this kinda does.

imagine what my nipples would feel like trapped between his teeth. His mouth between my legs.

I stare at it. “What do you see when you look at me?” I whisper before risking another glance up at him. “My grave, Indie.” He shoves half the sandwich into my hand and brushes past me. “I see my fucking grave.”

I shrug. “I notice things.”

“What a bargain for someone so priceless,” he whispers.

“Make memories with me, Milo. Be mine … until you’re hers. I promise …” I kiss the corner of his mouth and whisper, “I’ll let you go.” I kiss him again, but he doesn’t kiss me back.

“If I could go anywhere in the world, Indie … it would be inside of you.”

“You’re easy, Milo. Uncomplicated. And can I say good in bed without it going to your head?”

We’ll be broke and happier than we ever imagined. We’ll make love every day.”

“I would never. Keep talking. I think I caught something about you being tired. I think that was the gist of it. Right?”

Lie. Lies. Liar.

“Oh …” I smirk while chewing the ice. “I plan to.” She shakes her head, again biting back her grin. “Oh boy … you’re a little extra today, aren’t you?” “Extra what?” “Just … extra.”

shrug. “Time steals many things. Memories are vulnerable. Emotions fade. Every moment feels irreplaceably important. Until the next. In four years, you’ve had a lot of next moments.”

Indie looks up at me. “Like a video game with the top scores? Over time, someone else takes the top spot?” “Yeah.” “Mmm … I see.” She turns and looks both ways before crossing the street to the scooter chained to the light post by the flower shop.

Indie doesn’t hide her distrust nor does she question me further. “I’m thinking bees.” “Bees?” “Ruthie had a few beehives, and Micah helped her with them. I’d like to have bees. And grow flowers. Fig trees. Maybe I could sell them. Chickens. Goats. What do you think?”