Soft morning light crept in the bedroom window. It fell across Anna and John's faces. It was 7:00am. John shook himself awake. He lifted himself up on his elbows. Anna was still sleeping. Her hair fanned out across a pillow, making a dark halo around her head. Her face was smooth and untroubled; although John had felt her start awake at least twice during the night. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Her green eyes opened into slits. "Morning."
"Its Sunday," John kissed her neck, grinning against her. "Let's go down to Shell Beach!"
Anna rolled away from him, burying her head into the blankets. "I don't feel good," she moaned listlessly. "I think I'm coming down with the flu."
John tugged the blankets away from her face. "Babe, are you okay?"
"I just want to sleep," Anna pulled the blankets back. "I'm sorry, John. You go to the beach, okay? Take Daniel, I know he likes the beach."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she called from deep in the covers. "I'll be fine. I'll call Mrs. Canneday from next door if I need anything, okay?"
John left reluctantly. He slouched around the bedroom, putting off leaving until Daniel finally called the house to see if they were going or not. With prompting from his wife, John packed a lunch and left for the day. Relieved when he was gone, Anna crumpled into bed. She shut her eyes and tried to sleep.
The night before danced in her head like a bad dream. Mr. Hand revealing his name, the crazy conspiracies, their kiss, the floating. Murdoch had made them float. The city was isolated in outer space. Now that she was thinking about it, Anna couldn't think of the city's name. She couldn't remember one time leaving the city, except for going to Shell Beach. She couldn't think of a time when she'd seen a map of the world. That's because there isn't a world, Anna thought morbidly, there is only us. No way out. It's all an illusion, a trick. I don't have parents. John isn't my husband. But he is. I remember meeting him at the pier. I remember getting married, falling in love. Our first night together. What was the other thing Murdoch had mentioned? John could do Tuning or something?
There was a knock at the bedroom door. "John, I'm fine," she called miserably. "Go back to the beach. You'll disappoint Daniel."
"Anna, it's me."
She jumped out of bed and flew across the room, wrapping a bathrobe around herself and belting it quickly. She eased open the door and peered through the crack. Murdoch stood in the hallway, still wearing a long black coat and had his hat clutched in his gloved hands. "Murdoch," she opened the door to let him in. She tried not to feel self-conscious as his eyes travelled once over her body. He stepped into the room but shied away from the sunlight. Anna noticed his discomfort and closed the blinds before he asked.
"What are you doing here?" Anna asked with her back still to him. She watched him in her peripheral put his hat on her dresser. He removed his gloves, folded them neatly and placed them beside the hat.
"I wanted to see how you were doing. You aren't angry with me, yes?"
Anna's hands curled into her hair, fingers working to the scalp. "No, I'm not angry. I'm confused and... I don't know what to think."
Murdoch's hands wrapped around her waist and he hugged her tightly from behind. Anna twisted in his grip to push her face into the collar of his jacket. Her fingers worked up the jacket as they had into her hair. She fumbled with the clasp by his throat. It came loose, exposing the white flesh of his neck and collar. Words died in Murdoch's throat when her lips touched the tender skin. She felt his vocal chords vibrate then come to a halt. Instead of trying to speak again his breathing quickened. Anna waited to see if he would start into more gasping convulsions. When he didn't, she continued to unbutton the long coat. He shrugged it off when she finished. Underneath he wore a shirt styled similar to the jacket. The shirt came off much quicker. Murdoch was soon kissing her back; his mouth was hungry for her taste and warmth. His hands were as clumsy with the belt of her bathrobe as hers had been with the clasp of his jacket.
This was what Anna wanted. It occurred to her in a passion-clouded thought that she didn't care if everything was an illusion, as long as she could keep Murdoch J Hand. Soon they fell onto the bed, greedy for each other.
Afterwards, tired and quite satisfied, Murdoch and Anna fell asleep in each other's embrace.