Epilogue, Part Two #3
As he holds me, all at once my throat is still tight, my chest aching, as I think of all the years we lost. Fifteen years we could have spent together.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” I whisper. “All this time… I want you to know I never forgot you, X, never. I was always waiting for the right time…”
I thought I was doing the right thing, being so careful, but now it feels like a loss of precious years.
The worst part is that I don’t know how long I would’ve waited, if a certain young and bold researcher hadn’t pushed me.
Mara Vance ruined all of my carefully laid plans to set her monster free…
and gave me the opportunity to reunite with my own.
“It does not matter, my Calli,” X says, stroking a huge hand over my hair. “We are together now. All is as it should be.”
I hold on to him like I’m afraid he’s going to slip away, and take a shuddery breath.
“But I’m…” I shake my head, unsure how to explain this to him.
Maybe now isn’t the right time to say it, but it feels better to get it out of the way.
“I need you to understand that I’m… I’m likely more than halfway through my human lifespan as of now, X. ”
He pulls back to look at my face, his features pulled into a frown, not quite understanding. “How long?”
That’s right. We never quite managed to work out a sense of what a year means, given that his home planet has two suns.
I explain now, slowly, with no sense of rush.
He understands what a day on Earth is, so from there I expand to weeks, and months, and finally years.
His brow furrows, head tilting, listening so carefully that I pause to kiss him, distracted by how adorable he looks.
“Missed this,” he murmurs, kissing me again, and again. He’s getting better at it. Much better, I realize, as his tongue explores the inside of my mouth and makes me shiver in delight. But then he pulls away, grumbling. “Wait, wait, I am trying to think.”
I laugh, and oblige, leaning into his chest.
He shuts his eyes, muttering as he works his way through calculations of his own kind’s sense of time compared to mine.
“So it has been how many years since I saw you?” he asks, eventually.
“Fifteen years,” I say. “I was a young woman, then. Now I’m in my forties, which means…” I make a quick calculation. “I have about forty years left to live. On average.”
X blinks at me for a moment.
Then, to my shock, he huffs a laugh.
“What?” I ask, startled. “Do you understand what I just told you, X?”
“I do.” He takes one of my hands, squeezing it gently within his much larger fingers. “It is you who does not understand. My kind…our lifespans are shorter than humans’. I had not realized, till now, the difference.”
“Shorter lifespans?” As I say it I remember, long ago, our conversations about years and lifespans that left us both puzzled. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or afraid, now that he’ll be the one to leave me behind too soon. “Then— That means—”
He leans down to press his forehead to mine, gently squeezing my hand again in reassurance. “I believe we are of a match now,” he says. “On average, my remaining life should be very close to yours.”
I shut my eyes, taking a moment to let that sink in. It’s overwhelming, the torrent of emotions, and I’m not sure how long I might remain in shock, if not for X’s hand caressing my face and drawing me back to this moment.
“You came for me at the perfect time, Calli.” God, I love his nickname for me—the one I have staunchly refused to let anyone else use since.
“This feels as though… My kind have a word. Dhoj. It means all things are as they must be. There is no other way but that one, and life will always find a way back to it, no matter how often the path turns away.”
“Dhoj,” I repeat, and his lips curl into a smile at the sound of his mother tongue from my mouth. “It sounds like…what my kind call destiny.”
“Destiny,” he repeats. He nuzzles his nose into mine and lets out a low, soft sound very much like a purr. “You and I. The way we have found each other, then and now. It is dhoj.”
“It is destiny,” I whisper back. And when he holds me under the warm water, keeping me safe in his tentacles, it feels like the truth. Like this is the way things were always meant to be. My mate and I, united at the perfect moment.
As we finish our shower and dry off, instead of thinking of the years lost, I savor the thought of how many we have left to enjoy together. Years to hold hands and make love and look up at the stars together. Years to make a difference in this world together.
Later, we sit quietly on the porch, drinking tea out of the vintage set I never brought myself to throw away.
X holds the porcelain cup so carefully in his huge hand, and purrs his appreciation at his first taste of chamomile tea.
Though it should look ridiculous, instead the sight makes my chest ache from how much I love him.
I’m glad I kept the cup. I’m glad I waited.
As we sit together, holding hands, and gaze up at the stars, I think that even this one perfect night would have been worth a lifetime of waiting.