Chapter 20 #2
But given the choice between Earth and this backwater colony? Between her comfortable academic life and processing fish in a smelly facility? Between teaching literature to eager students and raising an alien infant on an unfamiliar world?
She would choose Earth. How could she not?
And Anya—Anya deserved to return to her people, to finish growing up among humans, to have opportunities beyond what a frontier colony could offer. She’d been stolen too, ripped away from everything familiar, and Selik had no right to keep her from reclaiming what had been taken.
The rational, honorable choice was obvious. He would tell Corinne about Tarak’s message. He would arrange for the Patrol to return them to Earth. He would bid them farewell with dignity.
Mikoz would remain with him—the boy was Cire and would need to be raised amongst his own people. He could care for him alone.
Alone.
The word echoed through his mind with devastating finality. He’d been alone before. He’d survived it. He could survive it again.
The deck door slid open behind him.
“Hey.” Corinne’s voice was soft. “You’ve been out here for twenty minutes. Is everything okay?”
He should tell her. Right now. Rip off the bandage quickly and let them both begin the painful process of separation.
“I received a message from Tarak,” he said instead.
She tensed immediately. “The Council?”
“They have called off their search. They believe Mikoz died during a trafficking incident. We are no longer fugitives.”
He waited for her to react with joy, with relief, with excitement about finally being able to return to Earth.
Instead, she was silent for a long moment.
“That’s good,” she said finally. “That’s really good. We can stop looking over our shoulders.”
“Yes.”
“And we could go anywhere now. If we wanted.”
“Yes.”
Another silence, this one heavier.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asked carefully.
He turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, wrapped in a robe against the night chill, her expression guarded.
“I want you to be happy,” he said. “You and Anya. You deserve to return to your world, your people, your life.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It is the only answer that matters.”
She crossed to him, closing the distance between them. “What do you want, Selik? Not what you think is honorable or right or best for everyone else. What do you want?”
The truth burst from him before he could stop it.
“I want you to stay. I want to keep this life we have built. I want to wake up beside you every morning and teach Mikoz to swim and watch Anya grow into the fierce woman she will become. I want this simple, ordinary existence where I catch fish and you process them and we make dinner together and fall asleep listening to the waves.”
He forced himself to continue. “But what I want does not matter. You and Anya were stolen from your world. You have the opportunity now to reclaim what was taken. I have no right to ask you to give that up for me.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she laughed—a short, sharp sound that held no humor.
“You’re an idiot,” she said.
“I—what?”
“An idiot. A sweet, honorable, self-sacrificing idiot.” She grabbed his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Do you really think I’ve been staying here because I had no other choice? That I’ve been building this life with you out of desperation?”
“You had limited options.”
“I had the option to contact the Patrol for transport to Earth within a week of arriving on Tillich Two. The colonial administration has protocols for people stolen from pre-spaceflight planets. They would have helped me.” She shook her head.
“I chose not to because I chose this. I chose you. I chose us.”
Hope flared in his chest, painful and terrifying. “But your career, your world—”
“My career is over. Even if I went back, I’ve been gone for months with no explanation. My position is filled, my research is abandoned, and my reputation is destroyed. And my world?” She gestured around them. “This is my world now. This house, this colony, this family. You.”
“Anya—”
“Anya is thirteen years old. She’s adaptable and resilient and she’s building a life here too.
Yes, she misses Earth sometimes. Yes, she deserves the chance to choose.
But I think if you actually asked her, you’d be surprised by her answer.
” Her hands gentled on his face. “We’re not runaways anymore, Selik. We’re home.”
He pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair, his heart pounding so hard he was certain she could feel it. Relief and joy and terror mixed together until he couldn’t separate one emotion from another.
“I do not deserve you,” he whispered.
“Probably not. But you’re stuck with me anyway.” She pulled back enough to look at him. “We’re staying. All of us. This is where we belong.”
“Are you certain?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything.” She smiled. “Though we should probably actually talk to Anya before making permanent decisions about her future.”
“Agreed.”
They stood together on the deck, holding each other while the waves rolled endlessly against the shore. The two moons hung overhead, painting everything in silver light.
Home, he thought. This is home.
And for the first time since his first family died, he let himself believe in happiness.
Let himself believe it could last.
Let himself believe he deserved it.
The relief lasted exactly one night.