“Maybe not for the technology,” she said quietly. “But the valley will be less bright without you.”
I had to look away before I started crying. Never in my life had I cried so much until I arrived on this planet.
That evening, as I was leaving the grow facility, I walked straight into Rezor.
He looked as terrible as I felt. Dark circles under his eyes. His skin was a dull bronze that suggested exhaustion or stress. His marks, which usually glowed whenever I was near, were barely visible beneath his shirt.
We both stopped, the space between us feeling like a canyon. His eyes briefly flared fuchsia.
“Cleo.” My name on his lips made something in my chest twist painfully.
“Rezor.” It took real effort to sound casual. Calm. Inside, I was anything but.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “I’ve heard you’ve been frequenting the tech chambers for cycles now.”
“Teaching Venith.” I kept my voice level, professional. “Making sure all the knowledge transfer is complete. Recording everything so the systems can be maintained when I’m not here. Although, you’ll have access to more advanced tech now that the planet is open. You won’t need any of this.”
Something flickered across his face. Pain, maybe. Or resignation. “So you’re planning to leave.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “I’m planning to be prepared. For whatever choice I make.”
“I see.”
We stood there with silence stretching between us. I should walk away. Should maintain the distance I’d carefully constructed over the past five cycles.
But part of me was screaming to move closer. To feel his arms around me. To breathe in his scent and feel the warmth of his marks against my skin.
“Cleo—” he started.
“I need to go.” The words came out harsher than I’d intended. “Mierva and Baleck are waiting for me.”
“Of course.” He stepped aside, giving me space to pass.
I moved forward, but as I drew level with him, my body betrayed me. I swayed slightly, drawn toward him like a magnet. The pull was physical, undeniable. My skin ached for his touch. My hands wanted to reach for him.
I forced myself to keep walking. To put one foot in front of the other even though everything in me wanted to turn around. To run back to him. To forget about choices and freedom and all the reasons I was hurt.What you want, not what youdon’twant.
Behind me, I heard him say my name again. Soft. Broken.
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. Because if I looked at him, if I saw the pain in his eyes that I could hear in his voice, I’d crack. I’d give in. I’d forgive him before I was ready to forgive.
I made it around the corner before the tears started.
My chest hurt. Actually, physically hurt, like something was being torn in half. My throat felt tight. My eyes burned. And underneath it all was this desperate, clawing need to go back. To feel his arms around me. To hear him say my name like it was precious.
Stars, I missed him.
I missed curling against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I missed being wrapped in his warmth. I missed the way he looked at me like I was the most important thing in his world. I missed the weight of his gaze, the heat of his marks, the way his hands knew exactly how to touch me.
I missed him so much it felt like dying.
But I was also still hurt. Still angry. Still terrified that loving him meant losing myself.
Back in the guest quarters, Mierva took one look at my face and pulled me into a hug. I cried into her shoulder like I hadn’t let myself cry in cycles. All the pain and confusion and desperate longing poured out in broken sobs.
“I saw him,” I managed between gasps. “On my way back here. And it hurt, Mierva. It hurt so much.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I know.”
