“Shalia, that’s no basis for a relationship. Even with my limited experience, I’m sure of it.” Joelle was adamant.
“It could be blind infatuation,” I muttered. “There’s Anrel to consider too. I need to be sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Seot, Cifa, and Larten are right as her fathers.”
Joelle shook her head. “You won’t ever get that, sweetheart, because the best parents make mistakes. If you’re searching for faults, even their slightest misstep will be the end of the world.”
“It should be different if I’m that far gone. Then I’d excuse them for more than I should. Right? Besides, if I’m so in love, why do I feel sick at my stomach when I consider committing to them?”
Joelle pointed a finger at me. “Now we’re at the basis of the issue. Something is scaring the crap out of you about clanning with them. You love them, but it sets off panic, and you push them away.”
That was the invisible problem I couldn’t put my finger on. “This is why we keep having issues. Me ignoring Cifa’s wishes for the promo vid. Worrying over Seot’s ability to direct with a look. Messaging Betra when I knew there was a good chance of that sensitive Kalquorian hearing picking up on it.”
“Don’t forget contacting Clan Aslada for their address,” Joelle reminded me. “Wasn’t there some hesitation when you were supposed to swim at that reef with Cifa? I had to practically force you to go with him.”
“I’m running from them. Why? Joelle, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”
“I can’t answer that for you,” she said with an apologetic smile. “While I agree you shouldn’t be airing your relationship’s dirty laundry to Betra, I can understand wishing to talk to him. You need someone to shine a light on why you’re rejecting what we all wish for – people who love us unconditionally.”
“Do you believe they do? Love me?” My heart hammered.
“I do. Better yet, they respect you. As for the last important question, Clan Seot would move heaven and Kalquor for this precious little girl.” She kissed the top of Anrel’s head. “If you don’t see that by now, your issues have blinded you.”
I laughed, although the hurt in my chest made me want to cry. “Do you know what’s nuts? I’ve loved them from the instant I set eyes on their profile. Before I spoke to them on the com.”
Joelle grinned. “That’s how I felt when I saw Nayun and the rest of your fathers. I swear, my heart stopped in my chest, as if I’d been waiting my entire life for that moment.”
I was certain I’d start crying then, but the tears wouldn’t come. I needed to bawl my eyes out, but I couldn’t. “Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I say, ‘Yes, I’ll spend my life with you. Anrel is your daughter.’ Why can’t I spit that out?”
It was a rhetorical question. Joelle had a novel suggestion though.
“Why don’t you go home to the Matara Complex, Shalia? Get clear of Clan Seot, find some quiet? Maybe the answer will come to you.”
I stared at her in shock. “Wait. Isn’t not running away what I’m supposed to work on?”
“Not if it’s driving a wedge between you. How can you say yes to their clan if you don’t figure out what’s holding you back?” Joelle shrugged. “Unless you’re enjoying the whole approach-and-avoidance dance you’ve been doing since we left?”
“No,” I mumbled. “That’s not working out. Shouldn’t I wait and take a break at the end of the cruise?”
“Is this a matter that can wait? Can you enjoy the rest of the trip?”
That was a big, resounding no. However, there was another consideration. “They’ll be hurt if I leave.”
“They’re hurting now. So are you. It’ll continue until you realize what’s going on.” Joelle put Anrel’s empty bowl aside. “Is that tummy full, sweetie? Let me rub it. Oh, so full!”
The ship’s horn went off, interrupting her silly chatter and Anrel’s happy squeals. I looked around to discover we approached land. Our next port of call, and it was a short stop. I’d be able to jump on a shuttle for home if I talked to Seot, Cifa, and Larten now. Yet the idea of leaving them hurt as much as conceding that I hoped to join their clan. I was being wrenched apart.
“I have to decide quickly. Why isn’t this easy? Shouldn’t love be easy?”
“Shalia, based on all you’ve told me about the adventures you’ve had with your lovers, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Joelle laughed.
I had to laugh with her. Maybe love was simple for others. I’m Shalia Monroe. I don’t do easy, damn it.
“What do I tell them? How do I help them realize I plan to be with them when I’m walking out on them?” I asked when the brief spate of humor had passed.
“Tell them the truth. Tell them you love them, and you’re doing this so you can be together.”
I sighed. I hated to do this. Joelle might be right, however. Sticking around and fucking up paradise wasn’t doing any of us any favors.
“Please tell me you’ll enjoy the rest of the cruise. Don’t you go home too. I couldn’t live with the guilt of ruining your fun.”
Joelle grinned. “I’ll stay. Someone has to reassure your fiancées that all is not lost.”
I threw my arms around her, squashing Anrel between us. “You’d do that for me? Make sure they understand I’ll end up with them if they let me? You are the best stepmom ever.”
She hugged me in return as Anrel squealed cheerfully in our ears. “Be happy, Shalia. After all you’ve been through, you deserve it. Now go on and tell them you’re leaving. Don’t allow any time to talk yourself out of it.”
I hurried off, admitting she was correct yet again. But when I saw the three of them on the main deck, sitting quietly to the side as everyone else chattered and laughed around them, I almost chickened out.
I was in love. I wanted to spend my life with Clan Seot. I was running off instead. The lunacy of it had me considering jumping over the rail and drowning myself rather than confront them with this ridiculous plan.
As they looked at me, I squared my shoulders and motioned for them to join me below deck. They immediately stood and headed my direction.
I led them to our quarters. I still felt the need the cry, but not the ability. That was just as well. This would be hard enough without blubbering incoherently at them.
“You should sit down,” I said as they stood there, their worried faces breaking my heart all the more.
Seot held his hands up. “Shalia, if you’re about to do what I think you are, please don’t. We can fix this. You’re the Matara for my clan.”
The pain in my chest got worse. My strong, proud Seot was begging me not to cut them out? That man should never have to beg. That I drove him to it shamed me more than ever.
“I am the Matara for your clan. You’re who I want for myself and for my daughter. I love you.” As their stunned expressions brightened into joyous realization, I hurried to add, “I’m not ready to accept your offer of clanship yet.”
They froze, caught between wonderment, elation, and concern. Seot was the first to regain his ability to speak. “Is it that we have issues with you sharing private matters with former lovers?”
“No, Seot. I knew I shouldn’t discuss what was happening with Betra. That might have been what kept me from sending that message.” I exhaled heavily. “There’s something not right about this. Not with you. The problem is with me.”
“What?” Cifa asked, coming close to take my hands. “Tell me so I can fix it. So I can call you my Matara and love you until the end of forever.”
The urge to cry grew, but the inability continued to dog me. Nevertheless, my voice was choked. “I don’t know what keeps me from accepting that I love you. Whatever it is, I’m afraid I’ll continue to push you away…and that’s no life for us as a clan.”
Cifa was quiet, his expression worried. Seot appeared to understand, though downcast. Larten looked confused as hell. For some reason, it made me laugh a little.
“It’s emoti
onal shit, my Nobek,” I told him. “All the stupid sensitive garbage we other breeds insist on having.”
“Oh, that.” His lips twitched with a slight smile. “You shouldn’t bother with that sentimental mess. It’s fucking with my happy future as your clanmate.”
I sighed. “I wish I could jettison the whole nonsense. I really do.”
“Tell us what you need to find the answers.” Seot came close. “Name it. It’s yours.”
“I have to return to the Matara Complex so I can figure out what’s making me ruin things between us.”
“You’re not ruining this!” Cifa cried out, his tone distressed. “We just have to be patient while you work it out. You should stay with us so we can support you.”
“You mean so I can bite your head off every few seconds. So I can subconsciously derail what should be a wonderful time,” I told him gently. “Cifa, I’m not leaving for good. I’m going to say yes to being your Matara. But I must clear my head first, to find out why I keep pushing you away.”
“Do you think leaving really would be best?” Larten asked.
“Honestly? I could be full of shit. Still, I have a better chance of figuring myself out if I’m not fending off another episode of mistreating you three.”
“You’re not mistreating us,” Cifa insisted.
I barely heard him. For a moment, I’d felt on the verge of an epiphany, as if I’d caught a glimpse of what left me so afraid of commitment. It passed, and I was as clueless as ever.
“I’m sorry. I hate doing this. It’s killing me to ask you to give me time.”
“Then we won’t ask you to reconsider.” Seot gave Cifa a significant look.
My cutie-pie Imdiko wasn’t quite ready to give up, even with our Dramok’s overpowering tone and gaze. “How long will we be separated? What if you don’t discover what’s holding you back in a few days? Or a week?”
He had a point. Now that we were this close to being a clan, I hated to be apart from them. “If a couple weeks go by and I’m no closer to an answer, then we’ll meet up and discuss what should happen next.”
“Twenty days?” Cifa groaned. Inside, I groaned too. I’d forgotten a Kalquorian week was ten days long. Hopefully I wasn’t so dense that I wouldn’t figure out what my problem was before then.
“Cifa,” Seot warned in his mild voice. “Don’t make her feel worse because you’re impatient.”
That straightened out our caregiver in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” He hugged me close. “It’s just that I want you now.”
I returned the hug, squeezing him as hard as I could. “Start considering what kind of clanning ceremony we can have.”
Cifa’s sharp intake of breath told me I’d eased his hurt. “Oh. Oh. Which ship? Wait, that depends on the guest list. Start putting yours together, love. There are so many wonderful locations, but it’ll depend on the time of year. Menus – Kalquorian and Earther food. What other races, Seot? You’ve got so many friends on different worlds because of where you do business.”
No one was happy I was leaving, but Cifa’s moment of distracted excitement helped us relax and even smile.
There was no shortage of heavy hearts as I packed to leave. I hardly believed I was doing it either. I was engaged to be clanned. I was in love. I would spend my life with the three men who made my heart beat faster, who gave me a sense of security, who saw the best in me despite me often showing them the worst.
We should have been celebrating. Instead, I was running off to pull my stupid head out of my ass. I had found happiness and was literally walking away from it. It didn’t matter that the separation was temporary. It felt like someone was dying.
The saddest part of all was saying goodbye at the shuttle terminal near the port where we were supposed to be vacationing and having the time of our lives. Funny enough, it was Larten who clung to me and Anrel, as if he wouldn’t let us board our transport. “Are you sure you have to go?” he asked me. “Isn’t there some avenue other than this?”
The brutal need to wail in grief was a solid weight not just in my chest by then, but in my stomach and throat. My head ached viciously. Yet not a single damned tear or sob would leave my body and ease the pressure. “We’ll be together again soon,” I promised my Nobek in a thick voice. “Then you’ll never be rid of me.”
Even with my reassurance, it took a direct order from Seot before Larten would let us go. By then, the shuttle attendant was gesturing frantically at me to board.
I almost didn’t. I’m not certain where the strength came from that got me on the shuttle and in my seat. I’m not sure how I stopped myself from screaming to be let off when the shuttle lifted into the air.
Anrel began to cry. She was fed, she was dry, and there was no reason for her to be upset…except that we’d left those we loved behind. She cried until she fell asleep in my arms. When we landed, she woke and started crying again.
I managed to wait until I entered my rooms at the Matara Complex. Then the stone I’d been carrying in my chest loosened, broke apart, and exploded in braying grief. Anrel and I sat in the middle of our greeting room floor, crying and crying and crying until we were too tired and empty to cry anymore.
Merry fucking Christmas.
December 25
I woke after an awful night. The little bit of sleep I’d managed had been filled with nightmares. Most of them had consisted of me searching for Clan Seot everywhere and not being able to find them. It doesn’t take a psychologist to figure any of that out.
That’s when it hit me, as I sat with Anrel while she had breakfast. Yes, Betra knew me better than anyone besides my mom…but there was another person who knew me almost as well. Best of all, Dr. Feru was trained to analyze a confused person’s issues.
“Anrel!” I said to my once-again sweet-natured baby. “Mommy has an idea that doesn’t suck! Feru is a man, but he isn’t a former lover. And he’s a real psychological expert. The guys can’t object to me talking to him about my problems. It’s honest-to-God therapy!”
She laughed at me from her booster seat at the table, her adorable face smeared with cereal. For that matter, all of her and the table top were smeared with cereal. She was a one-girl food fight. She jabbered excitedly.
“I agree.” I grabbed my com. “Feru’s the man for the job. I just wish it wouldn’t take four days to hear an answer.”
I recorded my message, detailing how I’d found the perfect clan. “Because I’m not the perfect woman, I’m mucking it up,” I told him, “and I don’t understand why.”
I went over what I’d done to sabotage my relationship with Clan Seot. While I was at it, I recorded Anrel happily flinging her food, which should amuse him. He deserved payment for fixing another Shalia emergency. I figured a good laugh at cereal-coated kid might cover the bill.
No sooner had I sent off the message than my intended clan commed me. I answered the vid transmission with, “Great, I haven’t fixed my hair or put on any makeup. How am I supposed to convince you to stick with me when I look like this?”
They chuckled, though their hearts weren’t in the attempted merriment. “You’re beautiful,” Cifa rebuked me. His eyes were swollen and red. Next to him, Larten looked grim.
“We wanted to be certain you were all right,” Seot added. He tried to smile but couldn’t quite pull it off.
“Not even a little bit,” I said. “I miss you too much to be okay.”
“We feel the same. You look as if you’ve been crying.”
“Oceans. I’m better than I was though.” The weight returning to my heart made that statement a lie. “I’m sorry. I really, really am. I’ll make it up to you.” That part was the truth.
“Don’t worry about us,” Seot insisted. “If you need anything at all, including us rushing home early, don’t hesitate to say so.”
Was there ever a more uncomfortable conversation? I doubt it. As stilted and awkward as the next hour was, we couldn’t bring ourselves to end the com. Anrel squealed w
ith delight when she realized her daddies-to-be were on the vid projection. Cifa and I both developed leaky eyes over her obvious adoration.
Issues or no, I’ll clan with them. For Anrel, I’ll force it to work, even if the truth of what’s screwing me up continues to elude me.
When we were at last able to say goodbye, Seot said, “We’ll leave you alone to do what you have to. The next move is yours, my love. Com us when you’re ready.”
“I will. I love you.”
I finally won real smiles from them. They chorused, “I love you,” and I started to cry. I clicked off before I could go full-tilt distraught on the poor guys. They do not need more of my ridiculous drama. I’ve had enough of it myself.
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