Chapter 23: Loving Lies

It was just past nine o'clock in the morning when we finally set up camp. We had the RV parked in a neat circle, tucked under the shade of a massive tree. The air was filled with the sizzle and pop of grilling meat, and I was in my element, manning the grill with a sense of satisfaction that only a good barbecue could bring.

Lois, my significant half, was busying herself with something that made me shake my head in mild exasperation—she was giving away free hotdogs to some of the passersby. That was just like her, always so kind and generous, even when I was eyeing those hotdogs for myself.

“Not the barbecues,” I called out, my voice carrying a hint of mock sternness as I waved a spatula in her direction. “They are mine.”

Lois looked over at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah, glutton,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at me before turning back to her impromptu act of charity.

I couldn’t help but smile, shaking my head as I turned the skewers over the hot coals. That was Lois for you—always thinking of others, even when we were supposed to be having a quiet morning to ourselves. But that was one of the things I loved most about her.

Suddenly, the sky was shaded with crimson, casting an eerie glow over the campsite. Lois stopped what she was doing, her usual warmth replaced by a frown as she looked up at the ominous sight. “It’s supers... what is that? A meteor?”

“Don’t mind it,” I said casually, flipping a skewer as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “It will soon pass.”

As if my words held some kind of prophetic power, the meteor vanished almost immediately, obliterated by a towering pillar of blue light that shot up from the ground and pierced the heavens. Lois stared in disbelief, but I wasn’t surprised. I knew exactly what was going on. This was just a small part of the game’s storyline, the one involving ‘Ivory’—the character whose memories I had wiped last time. In the game, she was destined to rebel against the Order.

I had just accelerated her storyline, probably skipping the entire first half. The meteor, the light, the chaos—it was all part of a scripted event. Soon, she’d meet a bad end, as the story dictated.

“Are you not telling me something, Tom?” Lois’s voice broke through my thoughts, laced with suspicion.

“Everything will be fine,” I reassured her, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

I settled onto the mat Lois had spread over the grass, holding a tray of skewers in my lap. I took my time, eating them bit by bit, savoring the flavor. Lois sat beside me, grabbing a skewer of her own and chewing on it softly, lost in thought.

“The old me was probably more selfish and brusque,” she suddenly remarked, her voice carrying a note of introspection.

I glanced at her, surprised. “What makes you say that?”

Lois held up a small notebook, worn around the edges. No, it wasn’t just a notebook—it was a journal.

“It’s the old Lois’s journal from before I lost my memory,” she explained, her voice tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. “I’m sorry I kept it away from you. She really loved you, you know?”

The way she said it cut through me, more painful than I expected. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words caught in my throat.

Lois pouted, gnashing at her skewers with a frustrated bite. “I just have you know,” she said, her voice a little louder, “I’m not your Lois anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m jealous of the old Lois,” she admitted, her voice wavering slightly. “That’s what I’m saying.”

Lois sighed, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I found the journal while cleaning up the library. It was hidden so well… like it was her most precious treasure. She started journaling three years ago, right around the time she first arrived in Kane. And I know it sounds obnoxious, but… I’m so jealous of her.”

“You’re still my Lois, you know?” I tried to reassure her, but my voice sounded less convincing than I hoped.

She shook her head. “Sorry for being a jerk, but I’m not.”

“Then who are you if not her?” My heart was starting to ache as I looked at her, trying to make sense of what she was feeling.

She hesitated, fiddling with the edges of the journal. “I’m the girl you resurrected from the dead, and nothing more. I wish I could fall in love like the old Lois did, but… my affection for you is different somehow.”

I felt a pang in my chest. “You’re making my heart wrench, Lois.”

The tray of skewers in my lap no longer held any appeal. I set them aside, appetite gone, and tried to read the emotions behind her eyes, but she was closed off.

“I don’t know,” she continued, voice softer now. “You remember that night I asked for a kiss, and then we cuddled? Sheesh… I felt so guilty that night. It’s like… I’m cheating.”

“Cheating against yourself? That’s dumb,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“It is j-just…” stuttered Lois.

I paused, asking instead, “What is it, Lois? What’s really bothering you?”

She looked at me, her eyes determined, yet tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. “I know it’s not in my place to say this, but… I want to take a shot at being a superhero.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden declaration. “…What?”

Lois pressed on, her voice steady. “The old Lois wouldn’t have entertained such a thought, considering her experiences. But I’m different. I’m not her. I’m an empty slate, and I can see everything so much more objectively. With my powers of self-mastery, I understand how wrong this world is… how wrong the current order is.”

It was a lot to take in. I found myself at a loss for words, trying to process what she was saying.

Lois didn’t stop. “I used to be the Ebony Knight, and I could be the Ebony Knight again. I can do so much good. I know the world isn’t my problem, but… if people just put together their efforts, then we could do so much good together.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I had made Ivory forget parts of her memories, pushing her onto a path I’d charted toward self-destruction. And now, here was Lois, with a clear vision of what she wanted to do with her second chance at life.

“I don’t know, Lois… Do you really think people haven’t tried?” I asked, my voice heavy with the weight of past failures or the lack thereof.

“We could be the first,” she countered, her resolve unshaken.

“But we could die,” I argued back, the reality of her words hitting me hard. I knew the dangers of the path she wanted to take, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again, even if she wasn’t the same Lois as before.

Lois looked at me with a mix of determination and compassion. “Isn’t that a risk worth taking if it means we could make a difference? I don’t want to just exist, Tom. I want to live. I want to do something that matters.”

Her words echoed in my mind, stirring something deep within me.

I found myself… angry. The frustration built up inside me, and I could barely keep it in check. “Tell me, Lois, what difference does it make?”

“We start small—” she began, but I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intended.

“What? Start with a small criminal outfit, huh? Is that it? Do you not want normal? This world doesn’t need heroes or villains. It needs people like us who just bow to power, to live as inconspicuously as possible, and stay invisible.”

Lois frowned, her determination flickering. “We aren’t cattle, Tom.”

“But we are.” My words hung in the air, heavy with resignation.

Lois stared at me, the fire in her eyes dimming, and I could feel the weight of what I was saying crashing down on both of us. “B-but…”

“The current order of things is terrible, but it’s a life we can live.” I punctuated with every syllable.

“Are you alright with this life, Tom?” Her voice was softer now, tinged with something close to disappointment.

I sighed, the anger giving way to something more vulnerable. “As long as I am with you.”

The drive home had been quiet, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife. The hum of the engine was the only sound, filling the silence that had settled after our argument. I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind was elsewhere, replaying our conversation over and over.

Finally, Lois broke the silence. “I am sorry, Tom.”

I glanced at her, her expression a mix of regret and sadness. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I… No. It is my fault.” The words came out stiff, but they were the truth. I had lashed out, letting my fears and frustrations get the better of me.

We skipped dinner. Everything felt so awkward, like a weight pressing down on both of us. I sat in front of the TV, mindlessly flipping through channels, while Lois was curled up on the couch, reading a book. Every now and then, I stole a glance at her, at the way her brow furrowed in concentration, at the way her fingers lightly traced the edges of the pages.

Then she caught me looking. Her expression softened, and she smiled—a smile that made my heart ache. Lois set her book down and walked over to me. She eased herself onto my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck, and kissed me, her lips soft and tender against mine. The world seemed to fade away in that moment.

“I love you, Tom,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

A pang of fear gripped me. “You… won’t leave me, would you?”

There was a pause, one that seemed to stretch on forever.

And then she kissed me again, deeper this time, as if trying to chase away the uncertainty between us. That night, we made love with a passion that felt both desperate and comforting, as if trying to hold on to something slipping through our fingers.

But when I woke up the next morning, the bed was cold beside me. Lois was gone.

I felt so betrayed. The pain was immediate and raw, hitting me like a punch to the gut. I woke up to an empty bed, and the realization that Lois was gone sank in like a stone. The first light of morning filtered through the curtains, but it felt cold and unforgiving. I tried to hold it together, but the tears came anyway, unstoppable. I sobbed like a child, clutching the pillow where her warmth still lingered.

Then, I noticed the letter. It was tucked neatly by the lamp, its edges crisp and untouched. My hands trembled as I picked it up, already dreading what it might say. The words blurred before my eyes, but I forced myself to read.

“I love you, Tom. But there are greater things in this world than us. I found a one-time port in the basement. It was cluttered among the old Lois’s unfinished projects. Portal technology was difficult to study, but I managed to make it work. You must be resenting me a lot… I am a fool who doesn’t pay back their debts. I’ve taken advantage of your affection, and I deserve a thousand deaths for it.

Don’t follow me.

We are done, Tom.

I hope you can find someone who can cherish you back.”

Each word felt like a dagger, cutting deeper and deeper until I could barely breathe. My world crumbled around me, the weight of her absence crushing me from the inside out. How could she do this? How could she just… leave? The woman I loved was gone, not just physically, but from my life, from my future. Everything we had, everything we could have been—it was all shattered, reduced to nothing but a painful memory.

I sat there, staring at the letter, as if willing it to change, to say something different. But it never did. The reality of it was inescapable: Lois was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

But why?

It… didn’t make sense.

“This is fucking… stupid.”

I muttered the words under my breath, feeling the frustration well up inside me. How was I supposed to deal with this? A normal person would probably cry it out, maybe eat some ice cream, or talk to a friend. But I wasn’t normal. I had powers, and with a single thought, I could erase every memory of Lois, wipe away the pain like it had never existed. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

It hurt too much, though. The ache in my chest was unbearable, a constant reminder of what I’d lost. The temptation to just numb it all was strong. I could bury the emotions deep, push them aside, and get on with my life. But what kind of life would that be?

I stared at the ceiling, wrestling with the urge to make it all go away. I could fix this, at least on the surface. But deep down, I knew that forgetting wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that Lois had left, that she’d chosen something else over me, over us.

“Am I… unwanted?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and the loneliness they carried echoed in the empty room.