“On my planet, couples become bonded through a mental link. It is like a form of marriage. Most of my people choose their own mates, but rarely—veryrarely—one may find their True Mate. No one feels certainty at why True Mates exist, and why only some find theirs, but True Mates are perfectly compatible, and upon mating for the first time they form a sort of… oh, what is the word in English…pre-bond? That is what you and I have. We are telepathically linked on a level most Darvrokians will never be, and when we are officially bonded the link will become even stronger yet.”
Somehow having Al essentially claim to be Jude’s soulmate was harder to swallow than the whole “you’re going to lay some eggs” thing. Talk about pressure. Not to mention, Jude wasn’t sure he liked the thought of having someone in his head.
“Does that mean you’ve been reading my mind?” he asked sharply. Al knitted his brows together and shook his head.
“No. I only have skill in touch telepathy. If we were fully bonded then we would be able to share thoughts, but for now our bond simply means that I am part of you and you are part of me.”
Yeah, no. Creepy. That was definitely creepy.
Without thinking, Jude asked, “Can it be undone?”
Jude didn’t think Al could look more stricken. His eyes were blown wide, his mouth partially agape. He was already up against the wall, but Jude could see him pressing back against it, as though subconsciously trying to scoot farther away from him. Clearly, he had said something extremely taboo.
“What?” Al whispered.
“I just mean…” What did he mean? Well. Exactly what he said. He wanted to know if it could be undone, because frankly? This was all way too much too fast, and maybe he couldn’t prevent the egg thing from happening, but that didn’t mean he had consented to having an alien he’d known for two monthsliterallylive rent free in his head. He bit his lower lip. In for a penny and all that. “I just mean that I’m not sure I’m comfortable being, er,pre-bonded against my will.”
“Against your will?” Al echoed. He was still speaking in a whisper, and Jude really wished he would stop.
“Not that I think you did it on purpose to harm me or anything like that,” Jude added quickly. “It’s just that… I dunno, dude, can’t you see how insane this is from my perspective? None of this is normal on Earth, okay? This sort of shit doesn’t happen to humans. I’ll have your… I won’t do anything to harm your ‘offspring’ or whatever, but after that I think it would be best for us to just… go our separate ways and forget this ever happened, you know? Before any more misunderstandings happen and we get even more hurt than we already are.”
Al opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to make any sounds come out. In a constricted whisper he asked, “Are you saying you do not feel love for me, Jude?”
And what was Jude supposed to say to that? “I love you as a friend” was so pathetic, and he’d been on the receiving end of it enough times to know that it still hurt, just with the added benefit of it also feeling condescending as fuck. He couldn’t do that to Al. He wasn’t going to try and “soften the blow” like so many of Jude’s exes had done to him, because more often than not it actually made the blow all the more painful.
But he also wasn’t going to tell Al the truth.
It would only confuse him to know that Judedidhave feelings for him—feelings so deep, he was scared to look into them for fear he may not see through to the bottom.
Feelings that might have been love if he had been given more time.
But those feelings, as real as they were, had been doomed from the start. What Jude had said was true—he couldn’t be what Al needed him to be. He couldn’t live up to this fated life he was apparently supposed to lead with a literal alien from outer space, and he couldn’t keep pretending otherwise. He’d let it go too far that night after the disaster of a dinner with his parents, when they’d kissed on the hood of his car out in the desert. He should have drawn the line in the sand then, and told Al that what they had was temporary. Not because he wanted it to be, but because it wasn’t fair to either of them to make one of them give up their life for another. It was better to end things now, before they hurt each other even more than they already had.
“I’m sorry, Al,” he said, staring at his knees as he mustered up the courage to say what he didn’t want to say, “but I don’t think I do.”
The silence that followed was deafening, and neither one of them did anything to break it for nearly a full minute. Jude began to jiggle one of his legs up and down nervously. He kept glancing at Al and away again, but Al wasn’t looking back. Al was staring up at the ceiling, a completely neutral expression on his face.
Then Al furrowed his brow in confusion and lifted an index finger up to his eye, using its knuckle to swipe his lower eyelid. Hand still raised, he finally looked up at Jude, confused.
“Why is there water coming out of my eyes?” he asked.
Oh. Oh no.
“I think… I think those are tears, Al.”
Al looked back at his finger where his tear was drying on his skin. He made a soft, sad sound that made Jude feel like the biggest piece of shit on planet Earth and beyond.
“My people do not have the ability to cry,” Al said. He blinked, and Jude saw more tears overflow and trickle down his cheeks. Al tried to wipe them away, but more kept coming, and he eventually gave up, allowing them to stream freely down his face.
Abruptly, Al pushed himself to his feet. He drew in a shaky breath. Averting his gaze from Jude again, he said, voice wet, “I feel understanding of you now, Jude. You do not need to feel worry—I will fix it. I will take our offspring to my planet once they are born, and I will—I will break our bond as well.”
Jude could think of nothing else to say except a lame, “Thank you.”
Al nodded once, then disappeared through the bathroom door.
When Jude eventually pulled himself off the floor and headed back to bed, Al was nowhere to be found.
13
