Adamek searches her face. He knows whatshe’s offering, what she’s sacrificing. “You don’t have to do it,if you don’t want to,” he whispers.
Nazirah picks up the gun, shaking. “I thinkI have to,” she says, “despite what I want.”
He nods, standing slowly. She rises too,dragging the moment out. “Is Caal okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“Your brother?”
“… Fine.”
He sighs. “You always were a crap liar.”
Nazirah bites her lip.
“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, as thoughrealizing he’s never said it before. And he hasn’t. “Foreverything.”
“I know.”
Nazirah inhales deeply. She aims the gun athim, trying not to waver. Adamek stands before her, awaitingrelease, awaiting redemption. “I thought I wasn’t worth salvation,”he jokes, a fit of madness to make her smile.
Nazirah says she’s changed. But standingthere, she realizes there are some innate things that will neverchange. She knows what they need, what they want, what she shoulddo to make everyone else happy. But Cato is right. It’s time shestopped living for the dead … and started living for herself.
She is so selfish.
And she won’t do it.
“I lied.”
Nazirah unloads the gun, tossing it awaywith satisfying finality. She watches the conflicted emotions crosshis face. Disappointment registers, then anger, then anguish. Butmaybe, just maybe, there’s relief too.
“I told you not to save me again.”
She steps forward. “I’m not,” she tells him.“I’m saving myself.”
“I’m no good for you, Nation,” he says. “I’mno good at all.”
Nazirah pulls the amnesty pendant off herneck. She slips it back over Adamek, the rightful owner. “I don’tbelieve that,” she says. “Do what you want with your life … but Iwon’t be the one to take it away.”
“Aren’t you afraid of being with me?”
“Yes,” she replies honestly. “But I’m moreafraid of being without you.” Nazirah stands on tiptoes, gentlygrabs his shoulders. Into his ear she whispers, “I forgiveyou.”
“It can’t be that simple!” he cries,breathless and overwhelmed. “You forgive me, after everything I’vedone? That’s it? End of story?”
Nazirah smiles, shakes her head. “It’s notthe end, Morgen,” she says. “It’s the beginning.” She kisses him.He doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t give in. And slowly, so slowly,he kisses her back.
Nazirah Nation is alive.
###
About the Author
M.P. Attardo is atwenty-something, part-time writer, full-time daydreamer. She has acollege degree … is still trying to figure out what on earth to dowith it. She loves amateur baseball commentating, heckling, andoverindulging.
http://maryattardo.blogspot.com
https://twitter.com/maryattardo