The Last Man on Earth: A Survival Romance

by Shae Sanders

“I’m serious.” I sit up, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m very satisfied. No regrets. In the future, no appointments needed. No questions asked. If it’s on sight, I’m good with it. Whenever you want it.”

What a difference a fuckin’ week makes. I ain’t worked this damn hard since my last album, and even that was child’s play compared to this shit. But as I look in Ari’s eyes and flash back to ten minutes ago, I know there’s more work that’s gotta be done. However that shit happened, we’re a team now, and frankly, now that we’ve fucked, I’m feeling real boyfriend-like with this woman. Time to grow the fuck up.

boyfriend? ooooo

“There’s a segment of our community that collects degrees like trophies and goes back to school when we’re bored. I’m one of those, I fear.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they come save us tomorrow,” I say roughly. “I might as well be the last nigga on earth, cuz I’m gon' be the last nigga you fuck.”

“A nigga had to kill a wild animal just to taste this pussy,” I murmur. “When you cum, I better hear you. Tell me it’s mine while you cum on my shit.”

I’ve never been the other woman. I want to feel ashamed about this, but I don’t. What we did was natural. Primal. Adam and Eve, but black, though. The Blue Lagoon. We don’t have the luxury of morality here. There’s no room for guilt or restraint. We’re trying to fucking survive, the last two people in the world, it feels like.

He presses his forehead to mine, and we stay right there, two lost souls swaying at the ends of our rope, finding what little peace we can in this moment. Because after this? After everything, after our home was just destroyed, we have to decide what’s worth living for. We have each other, yes, but… We need to decide if that’s enough.

ugh my heart breaks for them

Everything feels right. We make love this time. We’ve been doing that more lately. Taking our time, staring into each other’s eyes, all shit I never really did in the past. Making love always seemed like something you do with your wife. The rest of these bitches, you slut ‘em out.

The veins in her chest are extra prominent. They’re running deep blue underneath her tanned brown skin, and her breasts themselves are fuller and heavier, even though her body is thinner. And it hits me like a train. Shemari looked like this once. Way back when she was first pregnant with JR. My heart hammers at the realization. I stare at Ari, really stare, the thought forming before I can make sense of it. She’s pregnant. Ari is pregnant.

We pass the HELP sign just before we get to the tree line. Ari stops for a second, frowning over the lines. They’re jagged now, probably from the wind. She usually fixes it, but today, she just…keeps on walking.

they’re tryna accept the fact they may not be saved

“You’re not dying, Ari. Jesus. You’re pregnant.”

Vincent dotes on me. Every morning before he gets up, he kisses the baby. Every night before he falls asleep, he kisses the baby. And in between, he waits on me hand and foot. I can’t lift anything. Not a bucket, a shell, or even the mat we lay on when we sleep out on the beach. He acts like I’m carrying the next heir to a royal family.

awww he’s so excited

It feels ridiculous to look forward to the day we bring a baby into this situation, but when I think of the alternative, it doesn’t seem so crazy. We’re…relatively safe here. No guns on this island. No natural disasters so far. No rat race. No racism. Just us. Things could definitely be worse.

“You’re so beautiful,” I say. “I know I ain’t bein’ still, but I can’t help it. I love lookin’ at you.” She smiles. “It’s okay. I love when you look at me. And…I love you.” “I love you, too.”

love this. I love when a man is useful. I don’t suppose they get many opportunities to be useful in modern times, but this right here is a return to form. And I’m enjoying it very much.

I lift my head at the same time she turns hers and there it is. A plane. “Fuck!” I breathe.

“November sixteenth.” That’s insane. My wedding was supposed to be on Valentine’s Day. It’s been nine fucking months?

The first one being a text from Vincent. I won’t even waste time wondering how he got my number. The important thing is that he’s already on some bullshit. Why u leave w/o saying bye

Us being apart was the problem. We’re better together. Happier. I damn near skip to my car now that I’ve seen that woman. I ain’t ashamed to say it: I need her and I love her. Fuck what anybody else thinks. I just have to tell Shemari what’s up. She won’t like it, but I can’t live a lie with her. I don’t love her, and that makes this all very simple.

“Stop embarrassing me. Oh, shit! There go my angel,” he says. “Y’all say hey to my baby. She watchin’ me. Hey, beautiful.” He grins into the camera in a way that makes my panties melt as little red hearts explode onto the screen. “Alright, y'all. My baby mama said it’s my bedtime. I’ll catch y'all on the next live.”

I click and my jaw drops, my stomach twisting itself into knots. It’s us. Naked. On the beach. Fucking.

But I did it, and Vincent got me through it. Just like he got me through life out there. I close my eyes and smile. I wasn’t sure it was in the cards for me, but here I am with a full house.

Later that evening, our backyard is alive with joy. It’s a small wedding. Intimate is what Ari called it. And it’s perfect. Pastor Barker, my aunt and uncle’s pastor, officiates for us. We exchange our vows, make promises, shed tears. Now, we’re officially husband and wife.

As the yacht cuts through the turquoise water, I thank God for the past. As horrible as it was, it led me to this, and I’ll always be grateful.