Epilogue
Jude’s hand slid lazily across my waist as the station lights flickered from night cycle to morning. An inch lower. Then lower.
“I know you’re awake.” I was lying on my stomach, scrolling through SOL’s data.
“Shhh,” he murmured behind me. “I’m sleeping.”
“Is that why your hand is grabbing my ass?”
“It’s a good ass, and it’s bare, so…” He made that sound in the back of his throat—the one usually followed by “Jesus, you’re hot,” or “Are you sure this isn’t a dream?
” or “I don’t know why you agreed to marry me.
” This time he rolled over until he was lying on top of me and bent forward to brush the hair from my face.
Then he snatched the tablet and tossed it onto the floor, where it landed with a hard thud. “I banned SOL from our room.”
I wiggled my hips against him. “I was checking the morning readings.”
“Anything important?” He settled his legs on either side of me and pressed a kiss to my lower back. Then another. Slowly tracing my spine with his lips.
A shudder ran through me. “Nope.”
“Good,” he murmured. “Because we’ve got a big day.”
“You’re right.” I tried to slide out from beneath him. “We should probably get moving. I let you sleep in.”
He clucked his tongue. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve properly fucked my wife.”
“Is that so?”
His lips grazed my ear, tugging gently at the lobe with his teeth. “That’s so,” he said hoarsely.
Before I could move, Jude’s arm slid between the sheets and my stomach as he lifted me forward toward the headboard. I settled onto my knees, knocking the pillow to the floor.
“You are the most exquisite thing I have ever set eyes on.”
“I’m not sure you can say that with the vast landscape of space behind us.”
“I can.” His hands settled at my hips as he drew me closer.
“Space has nothing on your beauty.” He was hard against me, grinding ever so slowly—enough to tease a moan from my throat, which was met with a wicked laugh.
The kind that told me he planned to make this long and agonizing.
Jude knocked his knees against mine, spreading my legs wider. “Space does not feel like this—”
He drove forward, the force of it pushing me down into the mattress where my fingers twisted into the sheets.
With my cheek turned, I watched his expression shift from determination to something softer, almost blissful. Three years of this—of him—and I had never once grown tired of that look.
Jude was a carved sort of beauty, the kind most people mistook for severe or stoic. Yet he melted for me. His lips were raw and red where he’d bitten them, his steeled eyes fixed on where our bodies met, heavy brows pulling together with each movement.
“I love you,” I managed through a sawed breath.
His gaze flicked to mine then, his chest rising and falling hard. “I love you, Solace. More than anything.”
For a moment the world narrowed to nothing but the heat between us as he gathered me back against his chest. His pace grew relentless, as though the years we’d lost had been nothing more than vapor he meant to reclaim with every breath.
I pressed a kiss to the hollow of his neck as his hands found their way to my ribs, holding me close.
With a soft sound I traced the line of his jaw, savoring the simple reality of him—the weight, the warmth, the certainty of it. There had been a time when I believed we’d missed our chance forever. Dreams were one thing. Having him here, real and breathing beside me, was another entirely.
And I knew I would never tire of it.
Jude had been the note my life kept resolving toward, and we’d finally had enough measures to write a symphony.
We spent far longer than we were meant to lying in bed, gazing out the port window for the last time. It wasn’t until Venetia began banging her tiny fist against our door that we finally slipped from the sheets and got ready to face the day.
She sat between us now—helmet tucked into Jude’s sleeve while Elias and Kit gathered the last of their belongings, adding to the pile of bags at our feet.
“Auntie Sol,” she asked, peeking up at me, “what’s it like?”
I unfolded her clenched fist, finger by finger, rubbing circles over her back. “You’re going to love it. It’s big and green and blue and wild.”
We were going home. Back to Earth. All eight of us—well, nine if you counted Pluto.
Kit’s favorite dwarf planet was Pluto, so when they decided to name their baby girl after the girl who gave Pluto its name, we’d decided it was only fitting that we rename Patricia to match Venetia.
Pluto was currently in a travel terrarium beside us.
Along with Adam, his lovely wife Shay, and Jude’s brother Dylan, and a whole crew of volunteers who had signed on to help us rebuild what was left.
Three years ago, Jude saved me. When we docked at Station Four so I could receive medical care, I was wheeled one way and Jude was handcuffed and led the other.
I watched helplessly as the Order arrested him while I was pushed toward the med ring.
Tears would have been streaming down my face if I hadn’t already been in stage two organ failure and so severely dehydrated I could barely stay conscious.
I wasn’t sure if I’d see him again. If I’d get him back.
I’d been abandoned on Earth, only to feel abandoned again in space.
It was in the med ring that I met Kit—who was handcuffed to a hospital bed and very, very pregnant.
She had been on her way to the brig for helping Jude steal the shuttle when she started showing early signs of labor.
We spent weeks there together—me healing, and Kit waiting to bring Venetia into the world.
In the end, Jude was discharged from service and spent six months space-walking with the ensigns, tending to the menial repairs that kept the stations and Echelon One running.
He took the punishment in stride, always with that same crooked smile on his face.
Once he’d paid for his crimes, he was allowed back into the lab—this time working under Elias, who had been promoted to Captain after Jude insisted he had coerced both Elias and Kit into helping him steal the shuttle.
It all worked out. SOL had gathered enough data during the rescue mission to begin mapping survival probabilities across the planet—exactly what Jude had set out to do all those years ago when he first built the program at twelve.
It took a year to plan, with a lot of support from the Order and the survivors on Earth, but we had a blueprint.
If my life was measured in near-misses, it was also fair to say it could be measured in love.
Turns out what’s meant for you does have enough gravity to find you—so long as you keep dreaming and turning in orbit.
If reality is a field of possibilities collapsing into experience when observed, then love is the force that refuses to let go of the outcome.
“Hey Solace,” Elias said, flashing a disc between his fingers. “Jude gave us this CD to play for the ride down.” He passed it to the pilot.
“What is that?” I asked, looking at Jude.
He shrugged.
Disembarking was smooth, almost effortless.
The shuttle lurched forward and dropped into the quiet of open space as we sat on benches across from one another.
I couldn’t help staring out the window above Kit’s head where she sat facing me.
Jude had never been impressed with space, but I found it magnificent.
It was fathomless and glittering—like brilliant notes suspended on a staff.
I might even miss it.
Earth was only a green marble below us when the music kicked on.
Jude reached over Venetia’s lap and laced his fingers through mine.
The opening movement of Satellites chimed through my helmet, and my husband barked out a laugh as his comm patched into mine.
“It was either this,” he said, “or Paul’s shitty rock and roll collection. ”
I squeezed Jude’s hand.
Below us the world was beginning again, and we were right on time.