The call connected almost immediately. I rubbed the hem of my shirt between my fingers, nerves twisting in my stomach, and spoke softly.
"Hi, is this Clay Sanchez? I'm the owner of unit 1201, Building 8, Entrance 3..."
A low voice came through the other end.
"What is it?"
"Um... are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if you'd like to... marry me."
In my previous life, when the mob had surrounded our home, Owen had already fled to the basement like a coward. Inside the apartment, it was just my dad and Herbert fighting alongside us, desperately trying to hold them off. But outside, Clay had been the one keeping us alive.
At first, I'd assumed it was just neighborly goodwill.
But the day Owen abandoned me in the desert—left me to bake alive under that merciless sun—Clay went out alone. He searched for an entire day and night until he found my body. He buried me with his own hands.
I heard him weeping at my grave, and that was when I finally understood.
He'd been in love with me for years.
He'd never said a word because I'd been so wrapped up in Owen that there was never any room for anyone else. After I died, he took care of my parents as if they were his own. And in the end, he used every ounce of his influence in Capital City to drive Owen's company into bankruptcy.
That was when I learned the truth—Clay Sanchez was the head of the Capital City Syndicate. The only reason he'd ever lived in our modest little neighborhood was because he wanted to be close to me.
"Hello? Are you going to answer me or not?"
Silence on the other end. My cheeks burned.
"If you don't say something, I'm hanging up!"
What is wrong with this man...
My thumb hovered over the end-call button when that low voice finally came through again.
"I'm already at your door. Don't wait until this afternoon. I want to go now."
We walked out of City Hall with our marriage certificate, and Clay was immediately called away by one of his men—something urgent at the company. I watched him go, then checked the time.
Less than twelve hours until the end of the world.
I drove straight to the biggest supermarket in Capital City. Maybe because last year's heatwave had only lasted three days, everyone had let their guard down. The store was nearly empty.
I let out a breath of relief.
I grabbed compressed biscuits, instant noodles, pickled vegetables, cured meat—anything that would keep and fill a stomach. Then I made a beeline for the water aisle.
Once the apocalypse actually hit, this water wouldn't just be for drinking. I could freeze it into ice blocks with my system to keep my family cool. Water was the single most important thing for survival, so I needed to take as much as I could carry.
I was loading case after case into my cart when I spotted them across the aisle—Owen and Lesley, arm in arm, walking straight toward me.
I turned to leave.
Owen's hand slammed down on the case of water I'd just picked up.
"Wanda, how can you be this selfish? You're cleaning out the entire store. What about everyone else?"
I gestured at the deserted supermarket around us and stared at him.
"Which eye are you using to see me 'cleaning out' anything? Look around. Do you see a single other customer? Who exactly am I keeping from buying water?" I let the contempt drip from every word. "If your brain's broken, go see a doctor. Don't stand here making me sick."
I had zero interest in wasting time on Owen. I gripped my cart and steered toward the next aisle.
He stepped directly into my path.
"You're keeping me from buying. I just reserved every bottle of water in this store. Without my say-so, you're not walking out of here with a single one."
"Reserved? I don't have time for your jokes."
I shoved him aside, my voice dropping to ice.
"Block me one more time and I'm calling security."
There was almost no time left. I truly could not be bothered with him.
