[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/817313984264536114/1191597067399860414/tapas13.jpg?ex=65a6043f&is=65938f3f&hm=bcea6455acc7e70db1daeffe60339353820e063d271d1f6d463383a078d25805&=&format=webp&width=302&height=302] Her Name
Adam saw himself in the third person for a flap of a moth's wing. The environment of the utility room under the dim incandescence jeopardized his perspective for a moment.
What was he hearing? What is all this? Was his life a lie, or was he the only person living upon the truth?
He didn't know.
Right now, his thoughts were harnessed by the grown-up girl. He was now the skin for her. And she was for his.
'The answers could wait. This intimate moment cannot.'
For the first time in his apparent chronological remembrance, the detective was pleasantly enjoying himself. Feeling the cosmic curvature of a feminine body by his experienced hands. He doubted if he really had a wife named Radiyana, if it was simply a ruse and an artificial memory implanted by the so-called authorities of this so-called experiment. What sort of government in the world would allow such an intricate test upon human psychology?
If he truly was married with someone else, then he hoped for her forgiveness and a permission for polygamy.
Right now, all he thought about was Eve.
Evelyn Bouchie, a name that pronounced its beauty. A blend of Anglo-Francais that kissed linguistics and poets right on the forehead.
"Tell me more," he whispered amidst the mental festival of euphoric hormones. "About this city. About Vicilia. Tell me everything you know and anything you'd need," his hands and lips moved automatically, as if they had minds of their own. "If I'm truly Jack, then who is the other namesake? What was his fate?"
Eve didn't reply. Her brain was being bombarded with an inexplicable feeling of joy, enhanced by a lustful urge. Her short-term memory was struggling to retain the core information about the situation.
"Mrgmmm," she murmured, eyes closed. "I....do... I do... I do..."
There was a delay for Adam's analytical capability to capture the context for her irrelevant responses. But then, a rush of understanding escaped from his amygdala.
"I do, too, I accept you," he continued exploring the wonders of God's creation on her attractive physique. "Now and forever," he cupped her face with his hands, gazing upon the closed eyelids sheltered by eyelashes only describable as regal. "As my humble wife, to the end of time and space, beyond life and death. May God bless you."
Their lips met, absorbing each others' moisture, stabilizing their internal environments in equilibrium.
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'This is it,' Adam smiled in his cavern of thoughts. 'This is my life now. And this lovely lady is the one who brought some meaning to it. Finally.'
***
The Leafy Lodgings loomed in front of the newlyweds. Once a friendly face in the form of a brick-and-mortar accommodation, now a stranger to adjust with the endangered lifestyles of the duo.
Adam and Eve, hand in hand, entered the block of a building, ascending up a concrete staircase.
'Now, the real difficulty would be to assimilate ourselves with the regular residents among us,' the detective-on-vacation closed the door behind him. A taxi cab sped past, along the ordinary road outside. 'And to stay away from the landlord, as per Evelyn's knowledge.'
The ground floor lobby was quieter than a library, with not a soul in sight. No one was seated at the reception.
"Let's go upstairs," he suggested, looking for approval from his bride.
Eve nodded, with her eyes simulating signs of anxiety, curiosity and satisfaction. She was stressed about the same reason why Adam Jucas was avoiding Michael. She was curious about everything in general, but slightly more biased towards following her husband's directions. Lastly, her overall sense of tranquility would be accredited to being near the man she had hidden so cleverly from the wrong eyes.
"So... Tell me one thing, dear Evee," he inquired while gaining altitude via the stairs. His Heavenly girlfriend still gripping onto his palm. "About Jack. Who is he? And... Who am I?"
"Um... You're Jack Jucas," she let go of his hand, still climbing up the stairs with him. "It was actually me who named ya Adam... well... because I had to hide you under guise. And my name was Eve, so... uh... I thought it would be more... um," she circled her index fingers together, orbiting like a neutron star pair, as her eyes averted themselves out of harmless guilt. "Sorry if you don't like it."
"Oh, nah, it's completely fine. My mindscape was simply hungering for the reasoning behind it. Thank you for clarifying," Adam/Jack Jucas smiled behind him. "In that case, what was the name of my twin? That clone who was killed?"
"Oh, that was... um... that was you, too! But now you're back and I'm so glad I found ya!"
Adam felt two smooth and thin arms tighten around his waist from the back. Her skin was colder than his fingers as he untightened them.
The couple reached the landing of the second-floor corridor.
"Ah, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here now," he couldn't figure out why a fully grown adult was behaving so timidly in the likeness of a child. Maybe it was a coping mechanism for neutralising all the harsh sights and scenes that Eve Bouchie had witnessed so far. "And... We're here now."
They stopped in the midpoint between two doors.
One led to Catalina's apartment, a notable clone of Evelyn. And Sophia.
The other led to Adam's.
Perpendicular to their position, a third door stood by. Radiyana Doestoevsky. Adam's wife, presumed dead.
'Ah, damn! I wonder which door would be better.'
The nocturnal princess of the sky and her starry handmaidens silently watched from the wide horizontal windows spectating the long hall of doors.
A cloud shifted to cover the moon's eyes, as an unexpected moment took place.
One of the doors woke up, creaking its hinges noiselessly.
Catalina Bouchie walked out of her unit. Noticing the two people in front of her, a white flat object slipped free from her shocked fingers.
"Catalie?"