Chapter 9
CORA
“When are you hitchhiking out to my neighborhood, babe?” Qhev asked.
“I’m not,” I said. “Just paying the bills, remember?”
He sucked in some of the smoke from his vape pen, leaving me mystified as usual. The things put out a lot more smoke than they breathed in. It seemed very wasteful.
“You’ve been talking to that Eissoini for a while, though,” Qhev said, squinting at me through the call. “Seems pretty serious. If you’re just paying the bills, you’d switch it up a little more.”
“I’ve been talking to you for a while, and you’re not trying to marry me,” I pointed out.
Qhev gave me an incredulous look. “The other guy just wants to be your friend, huh?”
“Well, no,” I said. “But he hasn’t asked me to start packing my bags or anything.”
“It’s coming,” Qhev said. “Trust me. Pretty thing like you? He’s gotta lock that down before somebody else does.”
“I’m going to tell him I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Qhev’s eyes snapped wide open. “Why? Hasn’t this dude paid a lifetime of your Earth bills at this point?”
“No,” I said. “Sometimes it’s a while between messages.”
“You hear from him every day?”
“Most days.”
He gave me a funny look. “Something else is cooking, here.”
“I have no idea what you mean by that,” I said.
“Did he upset you?” Qhev asked. “If he did, just tell me his name and I’ll take care of it. I know people.”
“He didn’t upset me,” I frowned. “I just started thinking about all of this, and I think you’re right. I should be switching it up, not letting anyone get attached. There are so many guys in my inbox, and I’m spending all this time leading one man on. It’s mean, right?”
“Did you tell him you were going to move here for him?”
“No.”
“Did you ask him to marry you?”
“Well, no.”
Qhev shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like you’re leading him on.”
“He’s made his intentions pretty clear from the start. He calls me his little wife.” My cheeks burned at the admission.
“And you like it,” Qhev said, grinning. “Don’t deny it.”
“Well, maybe I do,” I said, burning hotter. “But that doesn’t change anything. For all I know, he has ten human women on the line, calling all of us his wife because he can’t keep our names straight.”
Qhev shook his head, laughing. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said.
“And who am I to judge if he does?”
“But the idea bothers you,” Qhev said, enjoying my discomfort way too much. “I think you’re jealous, babe.”
“So what if I am?” I huffed. “That’s just proof that this whole thing is a bad idea, and I need to cut him off now.”
“It’s just, jealousy is a guy thing for us,” he said. “Females don’t get jealous. Why would they? If a male is lucky enough to attract a mate, he doesn’t stray.”
Maybe it was my experience with human men projecting onto daernir males, but I still found that hard to believe. “Well, this is different. I haven’t agreed to anything. Why wouldn’t he keep his options open? You do.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want a mate,” Qhev said. “Not yet anyway.”
“Well, neither do I,” I said. “So I’m going to call it. Maybe I’ll make some ground rules for myself about how long I talk to any one guy so I don’t catch feelings or lead anyone on. I think two weeks is probably a good cut-off point, don’t you?”
“I’m exempt from this?” he asked.
“Obviously.”
Nodding, he said, “Yeah. Two weeks sounds about right. Poor saps fall quick and hard.”
“Okay. So that’s it. I’m going to break things off with him when he calls tonight.”
“Sure,” Qhev said.
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah. I know, babe.”
Eyes narrowed, I frowned at him because he didn’t sound like he believed me at all. But I was dead serious. Andrew was right. I was dangerously close to becoming one of those women for a bossy man who vaped way too much and didn’t smile enough.
“Wanna practice on me?” Qhev offered, still having fun at my expense.
“Yes,” I said, because I could use the practice even if he was teasing me.
“Marry me, babe,” he said, laughing.
“Be serious. He’s not going to say that.”
“What’s he going to say, then?”
“First of all, he’s not going to be laughing. He’s a broody type, always scowling,” I said. “And I’m not going to give him a chance to ask me to marry him. All he’ll have time for is a grumpy ‘Were you good today, Aneah?’ and then I’ll say—”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Qhev interrupted, sitting up. “He calls you that? Aneah?”
“All the time,” I said. “It just means wife, right?”
“Aw, babe,” he shook his head. “It’s too late. This guy’s in love with you.”
“No, he isn’t. You can’t fall in love this quickly.”
His lips flattened in a grim line. “Aneah doesn’t mean wife, babe. Is that what he told you?”
“It was the impression I got from the translation,” I said. “Why? What does it mean?”
“We don’t have wives and husbands,” Qhev said. “We have mates. Mates we choose. But some daernir believe sometimes our mates are chosen for us.”
“Like arranged matches,” I said, nodding. “He mentioned his cousin is doing that.”
“Uh, no,” Qhev snorted. “That’s weird. I’m talking about like… I don’t know what you call it, but I know you have something like it. Ibar. It’s like… a divine entity that makes things happen sometimes.”
“Fate. That’s what the translation says,” I offered.
Qhev shrugged. “Is that some invisible, powerful thing that messes around in your lives?”
“Pretty much,” I agreed.
“Then, yeah. You choose a mate, but Ibar chooses your Aneah. It’s not up to you, and it’s never wrong.” He relaxed back into his cushions, waving a dismissive hand. “If you believe in that stuff. But if he’s calling you Aneah, he probably does.”
“He thinks I’m his soul mate or something?” I shook my head. “That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, it’s deranged,” Qhev agreed. “But have fun breaking his heart.”
“Qhev, no. Why are you doing this?”
“Babe,” his head rolled back, his long silver hair pooling in the cushions behind him. “I just thought you might want to know what you’re walking into.”
“But I’m freaking out, now,” I whined. “I had myself all hyped up to do this, and now you’re telling me he’s in love with me. You don’t understand. This is not a normal guy.”
“What do you know about daernir normal?”
“What’s a ceket?” I asked.
He made a face. “Random.”
“It’s a big fish with teeth, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you go swimming with them? At night?”
“No. What the…?”
“The first time he called me, he had a big gash on his side,” I said. “He was cleaning it up while he talked to me like it was no big deal. He said he got it swimming with cekets.”
“Cora, babe…. Was he wet? His hair and clothes?”
I thought back, but I was sure he hadn’t been. “No.”
“And it was a gash? Not a bunch of gashes? He didn’t have an arm or a leg ripped off?”
“No, of course not,” I huffed. “It was one long gash. It looked really bad, though. On Earth, it would have needed a trip to the hospital for stitches.”
There was a pause, presumably while some of that filtered through his translator.
Looking a little queasy, he said, “Don’t tell me any more about stitches.
But look. Cekets fuck shit up fast. If one bit him, a mob of them would have bitten him within seconds, too.
He’d have been torn apart. So… Call it a joke or a lie, but that is not what happened. ”
I let that absorb, waiting to feel hurt or angry that Yiri had lied to me. But the feeling never came. He was okay. I saw that with my own eyes. And… maybe I didn’t want to know how it happened.
“I should be mad about that, I think.”
“Are you?” Qhev wondered.
I took another tour through my brain, and yep. Nothing.
“No,” I frowned.
“Yeah,” Qhev snorted. “So the trip is two months in stasis. I’ll be hitting Eissoi about two weeks later, and I’ll be there through the summer. When you get here, hit me up, okay? I can’t wait to see you without the mods and frames.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“Yeah, I know, babe. You’re going to break up with him when he calls tonight, and you’ll tell me all about it in the morning.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
He sobered, and the loneliness that hid under all his humor and charm showed through. “Seriously, Cori. Don’t forget about me. We can still be friends, right?”
“Yeah, we’re friends,” I said. “And I will tell you about it in the morning.”
“Can’t wait, babe.”
His smile was sad, and it hurt my heart. But it was fine. He’d see tomorrow. As soon as Yiri, the lying, vaping, probable womanizer, called, I was breaking things off with him for good.