More than he had ever messed up anything in his entire life. After his knot had blessedly slackened, he and Gemini dressed silently before an awkward cruiser ride back to the cabin. She’d refused to go inside, making him grab her pack while she waited in the dark forest.
He knew it was because she didn’t want to see Zenith, and that hurt his heart even more. The caerulian was confused, but Apodis couldn’t answer his questions, unable to find the words to explain how he’d ruined everything.
It wasn’t right to keep the calls a secret, and he only hoped that she wouldn’t be fired from her job because of him. Even if she had seemed to enjoy the quiet life, he knew how much she loved workingwith plants, how much she wanted the orb glows to help the people of her planet.
The things she’d said to him had hurt, though it pained him even more that they were the truth. He’d lied and withheld information from her, and now her life was permanently changed.
She had seemed calm about the omega transformation, but that was in the hazy aftermath of her first heat. Now that reality was settling in, she was understanding just how difficult things could be.
All of Apodis’ hopes that she would stay with him were dashed, and it only felt more brutal after the sacred joining at the Bloomveil. But this was how it was supposed to be. He was meant to be alone.
If he had just taken her back to her camp immediately, perhaps all this heartbreak could have been avoided.
The ride to her crew’s site was so different from the one just a few hours ago, guilt and despair replacing the giddy joy he had experienced from feeling Gemini’s arms wrapped around his middle as they had traveled to the Bloomveil.
It was a primitive space, as Gemini had described, with simple tents and an artificial atmosphere generator that cooled his heated skin as they entered the campsite. An older human male greeted them, eyeing Apodis with caution and Gemini with concern.
Apodis supposed he deserved the wariness, eventhough Gemini had claimed there was poor service at the cabin, which was why she’d been out of contact for so long. A small lie to make Apodis’ actions appear less shameful.
Two other humans looked on, a female with a smirk on her face and a male with a dazed expression. The older male placed his hand on Gemini’s arm as she told him all that had occurred—with some details conspicuously left out—and Apodis felt unseemly bitterness boiling through him.
He had to remind himself that he no longer had any claim over Gemini.
In fact, he never did.
Though he wanted her to be his bonded mate, he had ruined any chance of that with his deceit.
Gemini asked the human male for a moment of privacy, and he obliged, nodding at Apodis before wandering off toward one of the tents. She turned to him with a melancholic look, her eyes downcast.
“I guess this is it,” she said, and he nodded, his stomach tying in knots.
There were tears in his eyes, and he wanted to say something meaningful, but no words came to him, just an intense feeling of desolation.
“Thank you for your help,” Gemini continued, finally meeting his gaze, tears dotting the corners of her eyes as well. “I really appreciate it. And I know it’s not your fault that… I am what I am now.”
“Of course,” Apodis replied, handing her a pieceof paper. “This is the information for the doctor in Aerumi. I… I’m so sorry for how things turned out. Knowing I’ve wronged you so immensely will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
I will miss you forever, he wanted to add.
When I said you’d ruined me, I was telling the truth. I can never go back to how things were now that I know you’re out there. You should stay with me, where you belong. Where I can protect you. Where I can love you until the end of my days.
“Take care of yourself, Apodis,” Gemini said, patting his arm like they were mere acquaintances.
Apodis was too spineless to say any of the things whirling through his head, instead nodding as she turned and walked away.
“Goodbye, Gemini,” he whispered under his breath, before hurrying back to the cruiser like the coward he was.
“You should go speak with her. Apologize. Beg for her to return,” Zenith said, making Apodis groan as he tried to lounge on the couch.
Though the caerulian was little, he packed quite a punch when he stood on your chest, and Apodis had to shoo him away before answering. It had been just two days since Gemini had left, and every minute of them had been pure agony.
Zenith’s constant badgering certainly didn’t help.
“I already apologized, Z. She was never going to stay,” he said, sitting up and letting the caerulian crawl into his lap.
“Do it again. As many times as you need to,” Zenith replied, gazing directly at him with those big, dark eyes.
Apodis scratched the top of Zenith’s head, but the caerulian shirked the placating pets, instead continuing to deliver a vicious glare.
