Chapter 1

When the apocalypse hit, I awakened a spatial power, while my ex-husband, Leon Grant, got a rare "purification" power.

I worked my ass off to gather supplies, hoping we could survive together.

But he turned into a bleeding heart, handing out all our food and medicine to the so-called "poor souls".

He hugged me and said, "Honey, we need to embrace universal love. The more power we have, the more responsibility we bear."

But later, he shoved me into a horde of zombies as bait, just to save a pretentious girl who always acted innocent.

I didn't die. A passing military rescue team saved me. Later, I found out that his so-called "purification" power wasn't a blessing at all. It was a cursed trumpet that summoned hell itself.

And me? I was the only thing keeping him from disaster.

*****

"Fiona, hand me that box of amoxicillin," Leon called out from the doorway, his tone sharp and commanding.

I was crouched on the floor, counting supplies. Hearing him, I paused, not even bothering to look up.

"We're out of it," I replied.

"I saw you counting them just now," Leon said, stepping inside. He carried the chill from outside and a faint, metallic scent of blood.

I stood up, brushed the dust off my hands, and met his gaze head-on.

"I said we're out, and we are. Those are the last two boxes. I need to keep them in case of an emergency," I said firmly.

Leon's brows furrowed, and that world-weary, pitying disappointment I'd come to know all too well settled on his handsome face.

"Fiona, how can you be so selfish? Mrs. Wood next door has a fever. She's old. She could die without medicine," he said.

"It's just a chill. She'll be fine with some cold compresses. Last time we gave her fever meds, and she traded them for a bag of cookies right away," I replied coldly, cutting through his wishful thinking.

By the third month of the apocalypse, people were nastier than sewer rats.

But ever since Leon got that damn "purification" power, it was like someone hijacked his soul. He turned into a bleeding heart messiah, hell-bent on saving every lost cause he could find.

His purification power could clear out viruses in a small area, making water and food actually safe to drink and eat.

In the apocalypse, that was basically a cheat code.

And my spatial power let me stash away a mountain of supplies, the bedrock of our survival.

We were supposed to be the perfect team, the ones who could actually thrive in this horrible world.

But now, my space had basically become his donation bin for good deeds.

"That's not the same! That was before. Now she's actually sick. We can't just let her die!" Leon's voice shot up, fueled by that obsessive hero complex of his.

"Fiona, look at me," he said, stepping in and reaching for a hug. "We're the chosen ones. Our powers are meant to help as many people as possible, not just keep ourselves alive. We need to care about everyone."

I slipped out of his reach, avoiding his arms.

"Care about everyone?" I echoed, my voice thick with irony. "Leon, is your so-called care just sacrificing us for everyone else?

"We only have enough food for the two of us to last three months. And you've already given away half of it.

"Every pill we have could be the difference between life and death for us. And now you want to hand over our last box of antibiotics to Mrs. Wood, the same woman who traded her meds for a bag of cookies?"

My words were like knives, but he didn't even flinch.

He just looked at me like I was a misbehaving child, his eyes full of heartache and disappointment.

"Fiona, supplies can always be replaced, but once someone's gone, they're gone for good. You weren't always like this. You used to be so kind," Leon said.

Yeah, I used to be kind.

Back when the apocalypse first started, I handed out a third of my stash to the neighbors in our building, hoping we could all have each other's backs.

But the very next day, they broke into my place, desperate to see what else I might be hiding.

If Leon hadn't rushed back in time and scared them off with the glow of his purification power, I probably wouldn't be alive right now.

From that day forward, I realized that in the apocalypse, the only kindness worth keeping was for yourself.

But after that 'miracle', Leon took a completely different path.

He became the 'deity' to every survivor in the building.

They showered him with praise and worship, offering up cheap compliments in exchange for the most valuable supplies.

And me? The hard-ass guarding our stash, the stingy hoarder nobody liked—I became the thorn in their side.

"Leon, this is your last warning," I said. I pulled out the last two boxes of amoxicillin from my storage space and, right in front of him, threw them into a locked metal box in the corner.

I warned, "These are mine. If you try to touch them again, we'll go our separate ways."

Leon's expression turned icy.

"Fiona, you're being unreasonable!" he snapped.

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I could hear the neighbors outside, their voices full of concern, and Leon's gentle, soothing replies.

"Sorry, Fiona's just... not in a good mood right now. I'll see what I can do about the medicine next time," Leon said.

"Man, Leon, you're way too nice. Can't believe you married someone so selfish," one of the neighbors tsked.

"Yeah, if it were me, I would've dumped her ages ago," another chimed in.

I leaned against the icy wall and listened to the neighbors' insults outside, my stomach twisting into knots.

All I ever wanted was to survive this hell with Leon.

Was I really wrong?