by Rinelle Grey
“… carry out the test early tomorrow morning?” she heard Tyris ask, as she walked through the doorway.
“I don’t see why not,” Nerris agreed. “We won’t know until we try. How does that suit you, Kugah?”
At the mention of Kugah’s name, Amelie’s heart leapt, then sank. What was he doing here? For a moment, she considered backing away quietly. No one had seen her yet.
Then she gave herself a shake. This wasn’t about her and Kugah, it was about the babies and Marlee. She wasn’t going to be a coward. She couldn’t avoid Kugah forever. The sooner she hardened her heart and ignored the feelings she couldn’t suppress, the better she’d be.
Even so, his familiar dark black bulk, nodding his head to Nerris’s question, made her ache all over. And made her feel like smiling and crying at the same time. He took up far more room on the bridge than either of the men.
He was the only one she really wanted to talk to.
But she wasn’t here to talk to Kugah.
They all looked up as she came into the room, and Amelie tried to ignore Kugah’s impassive look, and focus on Tyris. “Can I speak to you for a moment, Tyris?”
Tyris glanced sideways at Kugah before turning back to her and nodding. “Of course, Amelie. I think we’re all done here, aren’t we, Nerris?”
Nerris nodded. “We are,” he confirmed.
Tyris followed her out of the room, and Amelie tried not to look back to see if Kugah was watching her.
“Is Marlee okay?” Tyris asked, as soon as they were out of the bridge and alone. His voice was worried, and Amelie felt a pang of guilt.
“Of course,” she assured him quickly. “She completed the treatment with no issues, but I did want to talk to you about her.”
Tyris frowned. “What is it?”
“I think Marlee’s taken on too much,” Amelie said firmly. “I looked after both babies today while Marlee was undergoing her treatment and it was a huge undertaking. I know Marlee’s probably much better at it than I am, but I still think it’s unfair on her, and on your own daughter. She deserves more of her mother’s attention.”
Tyris’s frown deepened while she talked. Once she’d finished, he hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’ve said the same thing to Marlee a couple of times and she insists she’s fine. Her mother helps her quite a lot, and Marlee feels that the benefits of Isala having a sister outweigh the disadvantages, considering we’ll never have another child of our own. More importantly than that, if Marlee gives her up, who is going to care for her? All the other families on board are in the same situation. They all either have young babies, or will soon. Marlee doesn’t feel it’s fair to Camali for her to go to an elderly parent.”
Tyris looked at her, his eyes suddenly narrowing. “Unless you’re offering?”
Amelie’s heart skipped a beat. That hadn’t occurred to her until he suggested it. She had no idea why. As soon as he said the words, her arms ached for the little girl that she’d cared for for such a short time. She could be a mother to her. She could love her with all her heart.
But she didn’t deserve to. It was her fault Camali’s mother had died. She didn’t deserve to love her.
She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly do it. I’m too busy, working.”
Coming here had been a bad idea. Why had she even thought to question Marlee and Tyris’s decision? Why had she gotten involved? It wasn’t any of her business, and she had no better solution to offer.
Instinctively, she started backing away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. You obviously have it all under control. Marlee has plenty of people to help her, you don’t need my interference.”
Tyris was shaking his head. “No, it’s a good idea. Marlee trusts you. She knows you’ll look after Camali well. And she’d happily care for her while you were at work. That way, we get the best of both worlds. Time alone with Isala, and a part time sister for her. It’s perfect.”
Tyris was smiling, as though he’d come up with the idea all by himself. Which, actually, he had. It wasn’t Amelie’s idea, and even though she suddenly wanted it more than anything, she knew she couldn’t.
She didn’t deserve it.
“And what are you going to tell Camali when she grows up enough to ask what happened to her mother?” she asked bitterly. “Will you tell her that Junie died because I wasn’t watching her closely enough? Are you going to tell her that?”
Tyris frowned. “No, I’m going to tell her that her mother died because I didn’t listen to the doctor who told me that going through the wormhole was dangerous without more information about what effects it could have on everyone.”
The pain on his face was just as jagged as the one in Amelie’s heart. It eased a little of her own ache. But only a little.
“You took us through the wormhole because if you didn’t everyone was going to be arrested and potentially a lot of people were going to lose their unborn children because of that stupid law,” she challenged. “That was different.”
“And you weren’t watching her mother more closely because you had a large scale medical emergency on your hands, without any of the staff and technology to deal with it,” Tyris shot back. “How’s it different?”
Amelie shrugged. She didn’t have the energy to fight him. Maybe they were both responsible. It didn’t make her feel any better.
She should have done more. She should have managed, somehow.
Tyris’s voice softened. “How many lives did you save, Amelie? There is a whole ship full of people here who would be dead or dying if it weren’t for what you’ve done. Are you going to blame yourself for the one life you didn’t manage to save?”
“That’s my job,” Amelie said roughly. “To save lives. If I can’t do that, what good am I?”
Because she’d certainly never help them increase their population to sustainable levels.
“But you did save lives. You’re only human, and you’re only one person. You did the best you could. You’re going to have to accept that.”
Tyris looked at her, his eyes intense. “Just like I’m going to have to.”
Staring at his face, Amelie wondered if she could do that?
Not that she had any choice. It had happened, and she couldn’t go back and change it. But that didn’t mean she had any right to care for the woman’s baby. To love little Camali as though she were her own.
She had no right at all.
In fact, when she wanted the baby so much, it was wrong. She shouldn’t benefit from Junie’s death.
“Look at it this way,” Tyris said softly. “If you really feel like you have to make amends, then isn’t caring for her daughter, loving her as though she were your own, the best thing you can do to make this right?”
No. Amelie wouldn’t allow herself that excuse. She shook her head. “Marlee is doing a great job caring for her. Probably much better than I could.”
“You said yourself, caring for two babies is hard. You mentioned Isala not getting one on one time with her mother, but Camali is in the same situation. Doesn’t she deserve that level of attention too?”
Amelie’s resistance slipped little. Could she make up for her mistakes by caring for the infant?
No, she didn’t deserve to make up for them.
She couldn’t do this. It was too hard. She shook her head, backing away.
But Tyris grabbed her arm before she could run.
“What is going on, Amelie?” he asked, searching her eyes. “This isn’t like you at all.”
She needed him to understand that she couldn’t do this. That she never could. Then he’d stop asking, and she could go home and hide.
“I can’t have kids, okay? I had an ectopic pregnancy when I was nineteen, and my only ovary was removed. I want a baby more than anything, I always have, but I don’t deserve to have one. Especially not this one.”
Tyris’s face softened. “Oh, Amelie.” He stared at her for a moment, then pulled her into a tight hug.
> It was the last thing Amelie expected.
It was unexpected enough that she burst into tears. Tyris patted her head, and the movement was strangely comforting.
She should pull herself together, stop crying, and pull out of Tyris’s arms. She was a doctor, and she had a reputation to uphold.
But she was human too. The comforting felt good.
When she finally had no tears left, Amelie pulled back and wiped her eyes. She looked up at Tyris’s kind face, and felt a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need me crying on your shoulder. You already have enough to deal with.”
Tyris handed her a clean handkerchief. “I always have time to help anyone on this ship. That’s my job.” He smiled.
Amelie just nodded.
“Now,” Tyris asked, “are you ready to forgive yourself, and move on to doing what you know is right, or are you going to keep berating yourself about this for the rest of your life?”
Was he talking about the ectopic pregnancy, or letting Junie die?
Not that it really mattered, they were both the same.
Amelie took a deep breath. Could she move on?
Did she have any choice?
“I’m ready to move on,” she said firmly. Maybe if she said it enough times, she’d start to believe it.
“Good, then let’s go put this plan to Marlee,” Tyris said. “Though I’m sure she’ll approve.”
Chapter 38
Kugah stared at Amelie and Tyris from the doorway of the bridge, frozen to the spot.
He’d listened in shock as Amelie talked to Tyris, her words shocking him.
Amelie couldn’t have children?
Suddenly, everything fell into place. That explained why she had reacted so unexpectedly when he’d suggested becoming human and having a baby together. She’d thought he’d wanted children for him. That he wouldn’t be happy without them.
She didn’t realise that he just wanted her. How could she guess that he’d only suggested it because he thought it was what she wanted.
Now that he knew the truth, he could fix it.
If only he could figure out how.
He had no idea what he was going to do. What he needed was a grand gesture to convince Amelie that he wanted to be with her, with or without a baby, but he didn’t even know where to start. He had no belongings of his own, besides his ship, so he couldn’t give her a gift.
What else could he do to convince her?
He needed some advice. From a human. And he knew just who would be best for the job. He turned and headed for Kerit and Folly’s quarters.
He was lucky, when he arrived, both of them were sitting down having lunch together. For a moment, when Kerit opened the door and Kugah saw their table, he thought he was intruding. He pulled out his tablet and typed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later.”
Kerit shook his head, and waved him in. “You’re not interrupting. I’m always happy to chat. What’s up?”
Kugah came in and sat awkwardly on the edge of a chair that was too small for him, trying not to bump the table with his knees. He typed quickly, “I want to know how to make Amelie forgive me.”
Kerit frowned, and showed the tablet to Folly. “I’m not sure,” he said to Kugah. “What did you do that upset her?” He handed the tablet back to Kugah.
Kugah hesitated. Even Tyris didn’t appear to have known about Amelie’s inability to have children. He suspected no one else on the ship did either. It wasn’t his business to tell Amelie’s secrets.
“I can’t say,” he typed. “It was unintentional, and I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I know now.”
Folly raised an eyebrow. “Was it a misunderstanding due to you not being human, and not knowing our customs?”
Kugah shook his head. “It was due to me not knowing something about Amelie herself that no one knows.”
“Well that’s not your fault,” Kerit said indignantly.
Folly laughed. “Don’t you know anything, Kerit? Of course it is.” As Kerit humphed, and crossed his arms, she turned to Kugah. “You should tell her you’re sorry, it’s always the best way.”
Could it be that simple? Would Amelie forgive him if he told her he was sorry, and that he didn’t care if they could never have a baby together?
A memory of her talking to Talah, telling him that she forgave him, entered his mind. If she could forgive Talah, surely she could forgive him?
Except it wasn’t that simple. “I can’t talk to her.” Anger at his inability welled up in him, almost choking him on the frustration.
Folly smiled. She actually smiled. Didn’t she get how frustrating this was?
“Write her a love letter then. Girls like that kind of stuff.”
Kerit raised an eyebrow. “What do you know of what girls like? Do you like that kind of stuff?”
Folly wrinkled her nose. “Not even remotely, so don’t try it. But I’ve read books. I know these things.”
Kerit sniggered.
Kugah though, saw the slightly wistful look on Folly’s face. Whatever this love letter was, it must be good. It sounded like the perfect solution to his problem.
Except for one thing.
“What’s a love letter?” he typed.
“You write down all your thoughts and feelings in a letter,” Kerit explained. “You start with ‘Dear Amelie,” and end with ‘All my love, Kugah’. And in between, you tell her you’re sorry, and tell her what she means to you. Anything you can think of. Spill your heart.” He turned to Folly, and grinned. “Apparently girls like that kind of thing.”
Folly glared at him, and crossed her arms.
“How do I give this letter to Amelie?” Kugah asked.
“Send it to her,” Kerit told him. He pulled the tablet over, and pressed a few buttons, then showed Kugah. “See, you type her name here, and it sends everything you’ve written to Amelie’s computer.”
It was perfect. Kugah nodded to Kerit. “Tank, Gegit.”
Kerit waved his hand airily. “No problem. Good luck, Kugah.”
Kugah looked back into the room at Folly, still glaring at Kerit with her arms crossed. He quickly typed on the tablet, “You should write Folly a love letter too,” and showed it only to Kerit.
Kerit shot a glance at him, back at Folly, then back at him. His eyes gleamed. “Thanks, Kugah, I will.”
Folly softened enough to come over and give Kugah a hug. Her actions surprised him so much he didn’t even pull back.
“Good luck, Kugah. If it doesn’t work, let me know and I’ll speak to Amelie.” She shot a glance at Kerit. “I’m a big believer in true love.”
Kerit pulled her into a hug. “Me too, Folly. Luckily, I’ve already found mine.” He kissed Folly on the nose.
Kugah watched them, his heart aching. He wanted what they had so badly.
Did he have any chance of getting it?
Only one way to find out.
He said goodbye to Folly and Kerit, and headed back to his rooms to try his hand at writing love letters.
*****
Amelie wrung her hands nervously as Tyris explained his idea to Marlee.
Marlee didn’t take it well. In fact, the look she shot Amelie indicated that she felt like she’d been betrayed, even though she didn’t say a word while Tyris talked.
Any good feelings Amelie had about making good on her debts to Junie by caring for her baby disappeared under Marlee’s hurt stare. This has been a mistake. Why had she ever brought her concerns up to Tyris? Why had she ever let him convince her that she was the person to help?
“Amelie is busy,” Marlee said flatly, when Tyris finished and paused to let her speak. “And I’m doing fine. Things will be even better now I’ve had the metamorphosis treatment, and all my ailments are healed. I’m sure I’ll still have moments when things are difficult, but that’s what happens when you have young babies. It doesn’t mean you just hand them on to someone else.”
She spoke with such confid
ence and knowledge, Amelie felt even worse. What did she know about new mothers and babies? Oh sure, she had all the medical knowledge, she’d seen the stats on mothers with post-natal depression and trouble coping, but that wasn’t Marlee. No amount of stats meant anything in the face of real experience.
“It’s hard enough with one baby, Marlee,” Tyris said earnestly. “If you’d had twins, we would have been counting our blessings and managing. But we didn’t have twins. And I miss being able to spend time with just you and Isala. Amelie doesn’t have any children. Don’t you think she deserves the chance to enjoy a new baby as well?”
Amelie blushed as Marlee looked over at her, her eyes wide. Tyris’s comment was painfully close to revealing the secret she’d told him. She hadn’t thought to tell him to keep it to himself.
It wasn’t even that she minded him telling Marlee. She’d had enough trouble falling pregnant herself. She’d probably understand. Just not while she was there. She didn’t want the pitying looks and sadness from her friend. It would only make her cry again, and she was tired of crying.
She also didn’t want Marlee feeling like she had to give up Camali because of Amelie’s issues. That wasn’t what this was about. This was about what was best for Camali, Marlee, and Isala.
“No one is saying you aren’t coping, Marlee,” she said gently. “We can all see that you are. That you’re doing a wonderful job. It just isn’t fair on you and Isala. Even now that you’re well, two young babies so close in age are harder to care for than a baby and an older child. There’s no need for you to do it when there are others around to take on the burden”
It sounded so lame. Like it was an excuse.
Was it? Had Amelie really just wanted Camali back for herself? Every other time Marlee had been struggling, Amelie had taken care of Camali, even when she’d had other responsibilities herself. Had she somehow hoped for this, in the back of her mind? Had she secretly wanted it? She’d missed Camali’s warm presence so much in the last few days, that she suspected she had.
“Or share it,” Tyris said quickly. “You’d still see Camali most days, since Amelie will need someone to care for her while she’s working.”
