by Cara Bristol
“Meow.” The cry, mournful-sounding now, echoed my own feelings. I couldn’t abandon Boots.
I did an about-face, grabbed the cat, clutched her to my chest, and left the alley.
Chapter Fourteen
Barb
He’s gone.
I slumped against my desk feeling as shell-shocked as if Kord had been the one to dump me and not the other way around. The office door burst open to admit Holly who stood there breathing fire. “Kord stormed out of here. What happened? What did you say to him?” she demanded.
Lies. Nothing else would have convinced him to go away. “We broke up.”
She shut the door and advanced into the room. “Why? That man is crazy about you. He’d do anything for you.”
I nodded. My heart knotted to the point of pain. “That’s why.”
“Are you insane?” She gaped at me.
“I’m a bad risk.” If I was a bond, I’d have a C rating, default imminent. My relationship credit score was less than 400. I averted my gaze from the accusation in her eyes. “I can’t handle relationships.”
“Says who?”
Me. My parents. My track record. The belief Kord deserved better than me. “I’ll hurt him.”
“You hurt him today!”
“It’s now or later. Better to do it before his feelings get any deeper.” Before mine did. “Better to rip off the Band-Aid.”
“You ripped his heart out.” If I’d expected any there-there-let-me-get-you-some-ice-cream sympathy, I would have a long wait. Holly looked ready to smack me. Not that I blamed her.
She planted her hands on her hips. “This is about your parents, isn’t it? You went to see them, didn’t you?”
I pressed my lips together and said nothing. This had nothing to do with them and everything to do with them. They were alpha and the omega of all my issues.
“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re a coward. I used to think you were brave and strong.” She turned and swept her hand in the direction of the window overlooking the restaurant floor. “I have an inkling of how you grew up, but you didn’t let it hold you back. You single-handedly built one of the hottest restaurants in New Los Angeles! But your accomplishment has become your crutch. You use busyness at Barbie Q’s to avoid having a real relationship. Instead of seeking success in your personal life, you shrink away.”
“So, you’re a therapist now?”
“I know what I see.”
“I’ve taken relationship risks. They haven’t panned out.”
“Kord isn’t much of a gamble. He’s pretty much a sure bet. He’s ready to commit to you.”
“There are no certainties in life.”
“Not if you don’t even try.” She looked at me, her gaze a tad less accusatory. “What are you afraid of?”
Being abandoned. Trusting and having the trust broken. People promised but didn’t deliver. Kind of like me. I hadn’t verbally promised Kord anything, but I was aware of his expectations, his beliefs. From the start, he’d stated he believed we were Fated mates, and I’d known I could never commit to a forever relationship. But I’d gotten involved with him anyway. I’d led him on and then broken his heart. What if I broke my promises and disappointed our child? I could barely stand myself now.
Couldn’t she see I was hurting? Did she think I wanted to let Kord go? I loved him. I had to cut him loose for him! He was the best thing to happen to me, but he deserved so much more than me. He deserved a woman who would love him with a whole heart, who could give him kits. If he stayed with me, he could never be assured of getting that.
Eventually, he would forget me. He would be fine. He’d meet somebody else, somebody unbroken. The Intergalactic Dating Agency would see to that. There were millions of women out there who would love to have a man like him.
Acid bubbled up from my churning stomach.
Letting him go was an act of kindness.
I couldn’t discuss this without breaking down and becoming a blubbering idiot. “What about you?” I charged. “Braxx comes into the restaurant every night to see you, and you won’t give him the time of day!”
She made an annoyed sound in her throat. “That’s different! Braxx is just a customer who likes to flirt. He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He thinks you’re his Fated mate.”
Holly looked shocked, but she recovered quickly. “I can’t be responsible for what some random guy thinks. We don’t have a relationship. You and Kord do.”
Not anymore.
She focused on his work apron. “Did you fire him, too?”
“No, but I don’t imagine he’ll be back.” It would be awkward for him and me. More than awkward. Painful. “We’ll need to hire somebody else. I’ll let you find a replacement.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
“It’s mine to make.”
“Whatever.” She spun around, stalked out, and slammed the door.
I locked it, sat at my desk, and let the tears fall.
* * * *
As I’d figured, Kord didn’t return to the restaurant. Even when I managed to hold back the tears, I couldn’t focus on work, so I texted Holly to cover me then sneaked out the back way into the alley.
Boots had vanished, but I refreshed her water and set out some food. I hoped nothing bad had happened to her. I was getting attached to the cat. She and I had a lot in common.
In my apartment, silence and loneliness descended like a sudden, heavy fog. Until I’d pushed him away, Kord had spent a lot of time at my place, but nothing indicated he’d been here at all. As I looked around, I realized the lack of personal items served as a bigger reminder of his presence than if his stuff had been littered all over. And it certainly said a lot about me.
What kind of woman doesn’t allow her boyfriend to leave so much as a pair of Jockey shorts? Kord didn’t wear underwear, so maybe that wasn’t a good example—but he had no clothes here at all. If I’d wanted to use returning something as an excuse to see him, I had nothing.
I’d been so proud when I signed the lease, the place my reward to myself for a job well done, for a life well lived. I paid more in rent than I used to earn in a month. The high-rise in a ritzy part of town had seemed so far removed from the nasty tenement where I’d grown up. Nobody urinated in the halls of this building. Things got fixed pronto. Hell, I don’t think they ever broke. Lightbulbs got replaced on a regular schedule before they burned out.
My one-bedroom unit was small, but the balcony overlooked the swimming pool ten floors down, and construction and materials were top-notch quality, from the granite counters to the unused stainless luxury-brand appliances to the spa-like bathroom with a huge soaker tub, multiple-jetted steam shower, and marble everything.
The apartment was efficient, modern, sleek.
How had I never noticed how stark, sterile, and lifeless it was?
I moved around the unit, picking up various decorative objects, staring at them like they belonged to somebody else. They practically did. They reflected little of my taste or preferences. I’d hired an interior decorator to help choose furniture and accessories.
“What do you like? What do you want?” she’d asked.
Make me look good. Make me look like what I could be. What I’m not. Of course, I couldn’t say that, and it wouldn’t have given her enough direction anyway because it still didn’t answer the question. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, other than something different.
“Minimalist,” I’d finally said. My apartment would symbolize a clutter-free, chaos-free existence, of having rid my life of all the bad stuff.
Except I hadn’t filled the void with any good stuff, and the bad stuff had just been crammed into a darker corner of my psyche.
I jumped when my phone rang. I stared at the familiar number. Obviously, the recent personal contact had given my mother the wrong impression—that we would have a relationship in which we could call each other to chat like a normal mother and daughter.
Uh
, no.
The visit had reinforced my certainty that distance, not closeness, was the best way to deal with my family. And the call couldn’t have come at a worse time. Talking to my mother right now would be like salting a raw, open wound. I’d lost—rejected, I forced myself to admit—Kord, and, yeah, part of me blamed her and my father.
But the ole bungee cord jerked me back, and I found myself answering. “Yeah, Mom?”
“It’s time. Your father is dying. He’s hanging on until you get here.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kord
“What is that?” asked Zither, my Zurelian bunkmate. Armor-like scales covered his arched spine. Because of his nasty personality, he wasn’t well-liked around the IDA barracks, earning him snickers and the nickname Armadillo.
“It’s a cat,” I replied.
He licked saber-like teeth. “Is it edible?”
“No!” I clutched Boots tighter to my chest. I’d acted on impulse, but maybe it hadn’t been a good idea bringing the cat back here. “She’s a pet, an animal friend, and off-limits to you. If you so much as drool on her, I’ll crack that shell of yours like a walnut.”
He growled but slunk out of the barracks, and I sat on my bunk and stroked Boots’ soft gray fur. She rumbled her contentment. Something about the plaintive way she’d meowed at me in the alley had caused me to take her. She’d been so skittish and fearful at first, but with patience and gentleness, she’d turned into a fine companion. To leave her behind had seemed too much like abandonment, and I knew how that felt and wished to avoid inflicting it on another living creature.
With the Zurelian gone, I set Boots down to let her explore her new home. I didn’t know if the IDA allowed animals in the barracks, but I didn’t recall a “no pets” clause in the list of rules, so I intended to heed the wisdom of an Earth saying that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission. I doubted my other six bunkmates would mind, and they could help keep an eye on Zither. I should consider getting my own place.
I’d held off because of the assumption Barb and I would share a dwelling soon. That wouldn’t happen now. I thumped my chest with my fist. My heart had tightened into a painful knot.
“Here you are!” Braxx boomed as he entered the barracks. Boots, sniffing at a footlocker, dove under one of the bunks. “I looked for you at Barbie Q’s, but they said you’d quit.”
“I didn’t quit.”
“You got fired?”
I twisted my mouth. I hadn’t given the job much consideration, but showing up to work after Barb’s rejection would be too painful. “I didn’t quit yet, but I guess I’m going to.”
Braxx sat on the bunk opposite me. “You want to talk?”
I focused on Boots, who’d crept out from under the bunk. “Earth animals are much easier to deal with than human females.”
“Truth,” he said.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Barb doesn’t want to be my mate.”
He winced. “You asked her, and she said no?”
“Never got the chance to ask her. She has been avoiding me this past week, and when I confronted her, she said we shouldn’t see each other anymore, that she didn’t love me.”
“How can that be? You are two halves of a whole. To not be with her would be like tearing yourself in half.”
That’s exactly how I felt.
“Unless…you were…wrong? Maybe the Fates didn’t select her for you.”
I rubbed my horns. “I’m not wrong. It’s the only thing I’m certain about.”
Boots jumped up onto my bunk and settled on my lap.
“I’m sorry,” Braxx said. “What are you going to do?”
“What can I do? You can’t force someone to love you back, and if I could, that wouldn’t be love.”
“Maybe she loves you and doesn’t realize it?”
“How can a person not know it?” I felt it in every cell of my being. I only desired to be with her and bring her happiness. She made my horns throb and my heart gladden—when she wasn’t ripping it out of my chest.
I scratched Boots behind the ears the way she liked. “Give me some good news. How are you faring with Holly?”
“Do you want good news, or do you want to know how things are with Holly?”
“No progress?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. We’d had such high hopes when we’d signed up with the Intergalactic Dating Agency and come to Earth in search of a female. Earth had so many, we’d naively assumed we’d be mated by now. I tried to stay positive for my brother’s sake. “I won’t be going back to Barbie Q’s. Maybe you could apply for my old job—”
He twisted his mouth. “Actually, I tried. Holly is the one who told me you had left and probably weren’t coming back, so I asked if your job was available. She said no.”
“They hired someone already?”
“I got the impression she meant I would never be hired.”
“Ouch.”
“My luck is not much better than yours, Brother.”
It was true. We had the luck of a Zurelian. Other than Zither, all my bunkmates were new. The original group of men I’d bunked with had found partners right away and had moved on. That left me and Zither. And Braxx—who’d been assigned to different barracks.
“Don’t give up on Holly,” I said. “There is still hope for you.”
“Oh, I’m not giving up.” He looked at me. “You shouldn’t, either. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
“That’s the trouble. I don’t know what I’m fighting against. All I know is Barb keeps saying she is not right for me.”
It’s not you, it’s me. After several IDA dates had said those words to indicate they had no wish to see me again, I’d come to the realization the phrase signified the opposite. What the females meant was I was the problem. There was something about me they didn’t like.
Did Barb mean that, too? She said she didn’t love me—did she dislike me also? Did I annoy her? Disgust her? Just as we’d seemed to be growing closer, she’d shut me down. Earthers had a saying: “Familiarity breeds contempt.” Had getting to know me changed her feelings toward me?
I flattened my hand against my chest. My heart ached even more for the certainty the Fates had chosen us for one another. Why couldn’t she see it? Why couldn’t she feel it?
“The Fates do not err,” Braxx said.
“The Fates don’t make mistakes, but people do.” I sighed as I stroked Boots. Eyes half closed, she rumbled. “They emphasized in assimilation class when a female says no, it means no, and we cannot persist in pursuing her. If we do, it becomes stalking, and it’s wrong and illegal.”
“So, you’re giving up?”
“What else can I do?”
Chapter Sixteen
Barb
Boing! I could almost hear the bungee cord snap. But, what I could I do? Dad was dying.
“Hi, honey.” He sounded cheerful, a total contrast to the way he looked. It had only been a week since I’d seen him, but new bruises spotted his sallow skin, and his eyes were yellower than those of some aliens I’d seen. Hooked to a narcotic pump, he lay in the double bed he’d shared with Mom ever since I could remember.
“The hospice nurse just left,” Mom whispered.
“How are you feeling, Dad?” I winced. What a stupid question.
“Not too bad. I’m tired, but I’m not in any pain. I’m on some hardcore narcotics. Only the good stuff for me!”
Palliative care would keep him comfortable through to the end. With death imminent, drug addiction wasn’t something the medical community worried about.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”
“Yeah, well, I tried to disconnect the bungee cord, but it didn’t work, so here I am.” I couldn’t have stayed away. He was still my dad.
“What?”
“Bad joke. Never mind.” I perched on the edge of the mattress.
“I’ll let you have some privacy so you can talk,
” my mom said. “Call me, if—if—well, something happens…”
“You don’t need to leave,” I said. There wasn’t anything I had to say to him that I couldn’t say in front of her. Basically, I had nothing to say. His impending death wasn’t a tragedy; it was self-inflicted. If I had anything to say, it would have been, “Why couldn’t you have pulled your shit together and been a better parent? Why did you have to warp me so that I couldn’t have a normal relationship?”
But I wasn’t so heartless I would send him to the great beyond with an angry accusation ringing in his ears. I could be the bigger person.
“No, you need some father-daughter time.” She tiptoed out of the room.
“Well,” I said. “Here we are.” I slapped my hands on my thighs. How about them Dodgers?
My phone began to play, the tune revealing it was Holly. “It’s work.” I sprang up, trying not to sound as relieved as I felt. “I’d better take this.”
I got off the bed, moved away, and hunched over my phone. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Kord called.”
My heart thudded. “He did?”
“I sent his final paycheck to him electronically. He’s coming in tomorrow at three o’clock to say goodbye to the staff. He’s going back to Dakon. There’s a cargo ship leaving to collect illuvian ore tomorrow night. He hired on as a deckhand.”
“So, he’s quitting then.” Pain knifed through me. It was really over. I’d never see him again.
“Don’t let him go.”
“It’s his choice to quit. I didn’t fire him.”
“Stop being an idiot!” Holly practically yelled.
“You stop being an idiot!” I bit out. “Look. I can’t deal with this or even talk about it now. I’m at my parents’ apartment.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She sighed. “How is he?” I’d filled her in a little on what was happening.
“Not so good,” I said.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Just take care of…things…at the restaurant.”
