Chapter 5 #2
A million questions pressed themselves on my tongue, but I squashed them, not wanting to pry.
Although I intended to get around to it at some point, I didn’t want to scare him away by coming across as if I was interrogating him.
A part of me also wanted him to freely open himself up because he wished me to know him, and not because he felt pressured to reveal more than he was ready to.
We settled at a picnic table under a tree near the gazebo. We opened our respective bags and started eating. The first bite of the trail mix crackers had my eyes nearly popping out of my head.
“Oh wow! These crackers are amazing!” I exclaimed before greedily shoving another one into my mouth.
Kayog chuckled. “They truly are. I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m a little obsessed with them.”
I smiled at how adorable he looked whenever he took that sheepish expression.
Every assumption I had made about this male was falling apart, one after the other.
He truly seemed to be humble, sweet, and unpretentious.
Nothing like the entitled rock star I kept imagining.
Maybe Tala was right after all about me mistaking his smile for an obnoxious smirk that first day.
“So tell me about yourself,” he said while picking up one of the chicken skewers. “Do you have any siblings?”
I shook my head. “Nope. You could say that I am my parents’ spoiled little princess. Although, technically, my nan mostly raised me.”
His eyebrows shot up, a mix of sympathy and curiosity shining in his silver eyes. “Why is that?”
“My parents travel extensively,” I said in a wistful manner. “My father is a criminal lawyer for the Enforcers, while my mother is a negotiator with the UPO. So they’re constantly traipsing all over the galaxy to deal with whatever mandate they’ve been assigned to.”
“Damn! That must be quite hard on their marital life,” Kayog said with empathy.
I smiled. “Actually, they make it work by travelling to each other. They never spend more than a week apart. In many ways, it’s comparable to being married to a truck driver or traveling salesman. You’re gone for a few days but always return home after a short absence.”
He slowly nodded as he weighed my words. “I can see that.”
“They also have daily vidcalls with each other,” I continued. “Growing up, they regularly communicated with me and visited at least once a month for a few days. So they were active in my life.”
He tilted his head to the side while giving me an assessing look. “Did you resent it?”
I smiled and shook my head before taking a sip of the flavored water. “Not at all. In fact, it was my choice to stay with my nan rather than with them.”
His stunned expression made me chuckle.
“In order to stay with my parents, I was homeschooled,” I explained.
“As a young child, I didn’t mind so much.
But once I turned eight, I started resenting not having the ability to form long-term friendships with people as I would have to part with them after a few weeks.
Staying with my nan gave me the stability that I longed for with a permanent school where I could play with friends and lay some roots. ”
“How did your parents feel about it?” Kayog asked softly.
I loved how respectful he was when addressing what could potentially be a sensitive topic.
Above all, the genuine interest in understanding how I lived that part of my life touched me.
Too often, people would have these types of conversations only out of politeness because it was expected.
With him, even though I still couldn’t read his emotions, I felt seen and like I was fascinating to him.
“They were sad to part with me but also understood that their lifestyle didn’t meet my needs,” I said, my heart filling with affection for my parents.
“Obviously, as empaths, they could feel my growing displeasure and had an open discussion with me about it. My happiness was the most important thing for them. They even offered to ask for a reassignment to more sedentary roles. That’s what sealed it for me. ”
“How so? I would have expected you to seize the opportunity,” Kayog said with curiosity.
“I’m an empath, too. They wouldn’t have hesitated to do it to make me happy, but they would have been miserable on the career front.
I loved them for being willing to sacrifice what they had spent their entire lives building for my sake.
But the work they were doing was important.
They were changing lives for the better, and it made me incredibly proud.
So I insisted on going to live with my nan. That was the best decision.”
“How did she feel about it? Grandparents usually love having their grandchildren around but only for a few hours or a couple of days, not to inherit the full responsibility of raising younglings all over again,” he said in that same gentle fashion.
“She was over the moon,” I said with amusement, my heart melting with affection for the elder lady. “Her colleagues call her the dragon, even though it doesn’t make much sense considering we’re not reptilian. But she is undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with.”
“What does she do?”
I shifted my wings, the soft breeze rubbing against the down feathers at my nape in a way that was starting to tickle.
“Nana Arika is the Senior Counselor for the UPO’s Intelligence Division,” I said, the pride I felt audible in my voice.
Kayog slightly recoiled, and he gaped at me in shock. He quickly regained his composure but continued to stare at me in awe.
“Wow, your family is truly connected at the highest levels,” he said, impressed.
I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Just like the families of more than half the students here. I’m not that special.”
A strange expression fleeted over his features, piquing my curiosity.
“What?” I asked, intrigued.
“Many students come here because their families expect them to pursue their legacy,” Kayog said carefully. “Did you come here to follow in the path of your parents or grandmother?”
I smiled. “Yes and no. I didn’t go into galactic politics for my parents, but definitely because of them and my nan. My entire life, I’ve been exposed to the many things I can help change if I enter this field. My nan wanted me to become a counselor like her.”
“I bet,” he said with an amused smile. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t convince you. Arika Sorek is extremely well-known as a fierce and no-nonsense advocate who you do not want to go up against. She’ll chew you up and spit you out without you ever even understanding what hit you.”
“That couldn’t be more accurate,” I said with a laugh. “But I couldn’t see myself spending my life in boardrooms dealing with the same handful of high-ranking idiots and counselors. I want to travel the galaxy like my parents and have a direct impact on the lives of the most vulnerable.”
“An admirable objective,” Kayog said, his eyes brimming with an approval that had me tingling all over.
“So that’s me in a nutshell. What about you?” I asked. “Any other genius siblings like you? Is your family in the same field?”
An unreadable expression crossed his face. For a split second, I believed he was going to deflect and avoid answering the question. To my pleasant surprise, he didn’t.
“I don’t know, and I doubt it,” he said with a shrug before tossing his last trail mix cracker into his mouth.
“Huh?” I asked, baffled.
He smiled. “My parents ditched me when I was an infant. So I have no idea if I have any siblings or what field they worked in.”
I pressed my palm to my chest, my heart breaking for the baby he had been. “Ditched you?” I echoed, crestfallen.
He nodded, his reassuring smile making it clear he held no trauma or distress over it.
“I was put in stasis inside a child emergency pod. It was sent directly to an orphanage in the small town of Voln,” he said factually.
My eyes widened. “Voln?” I repeated.
He gave me an approving smile that I had picked up on it.
“Yes. I was named after that village on Daelynn, the homeworld of the Darwandir.”
“Oh Maker! Did their ship crash? Or were they attacked by pirates?” I asked, trying to make sense as to why parents would discard their newborn child like that.
If they had access to an emergency pod built specifically for a child, then they had access to all the technology and services available to support parents who chose not to keep their child.
There was no shame or stigma associated with renouncing one’s rights to their offspring.
Better they be placed in a safe environment that could nurture their growth than keep them forcefully in a situation where they weren’t wanted and made their guardians miserable.
“Nothing like that. The pod was launched from a forest located 75 kilometers away. They included a note with my first name in which they apologized but stated that my needs exceeded their capacity to handle.”
“Your needs?!” I exclaimed, both outraged and baffled. “What needs could you possibly have as an infant that would overwhelm them to the point that standard family support and advanced technology couldn’t help cater to?”
Kayog gave me an indulgent smile. “I was a very... difficult child.”
“Difficult how?” I insisted. “And how old were you?”
“I was four months old.”
“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, anger seeping into my voice.
He chuckled and gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Linsea. As bad as it looks when you hear this, I cannot blame them. I had some significant... health issues. Any parent in their situation would have probably resorted to the same thing.”
My tongue burned with the urge to drill deeper and make him go into extensive details as to what condition an infant could possibly have to justify being abandoned the way he had been.
However, that he kept it vague indicated that he wasn’t ready to expose what had to be very personal medical history. After all, we were still strangers.