"Yes, of course. Thank you."
I walked her to the door, hyperaware of Cristox's presence, of how he stepped aside to let her pass, nodding politely, his mane catching the light from the window. The moment the door closed behind her, I flipped the sign to "Closed" and locked it, my fingers fumbling with the bolt.
Silence fell between us, heavy and charged.
"Ruby," he said, and his voice was deep, warm, with a slight rumble that seemed to resonate in my very bones.
"Come on," I managed, gesturing toward the back with a hand that wouldn't stop trembling. "Let's talk in private."
He hesitated, his tail twitching. "Are you sure? I don't want to cost you business."
"I always close from eleven to noon," I said, leading him through the doorway into the adjoining private dining room, my legs feeling unsteady. "I need time to prep for the lunch rush."
It wasn't the whole truth. That was when I worked with Teddy on his lessons, but I wasn't ready to tell him that yet. Not until I'd explained everything else first.
I busied myself at the sideboard, needing something to do with my hands. "Sit, please," I said, pulling out a few pastries from the display case. A couple of cinnamon rolls with their spirals of sugar and spice, some croissants still flaky and golden, a few of the chocolate-filled ones that were Teddy's favorites. My hands steadied as I arranged them on a plate.
"Can I get you some coffee?" I asked, reaching for the carafe I always kept warm.
"Coffee?" His voice brightened, the sudden enthusiasm catching me off guard. "Yes, please."
I turned to look at him, surprised. "You drink coffee?" Most aliens I knew likened it to warzog spit—whatever that was.
"I discovered it aboard the Historia," he said, boyish enthusiasm lighting his features. His tail swished once, a gesture I suspected meant he was pleased. "There are several humans in the crew. They introduced me to it. I love it."
Despite everything—despite the tension and the years and the fear coiled in my chest—I felt my lips twitch into an almost-smile. "How do you take it?"
"Black. Strong."
"Of course you do," I murmured, pouring two cups, watching the dark liquid stream into the mugs, the rich aroma filling the small space. I added cream and sugar to mine,watching the cream swirl and bloom, then brought both mugs to the table where he'd settled. The chair looked almost comically small beneath his large frame, but he sat carefully, mindful of his size and strength.
I set the plate of pastries between us and took the seat across from him, wrapping my hands around my mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.
For a moment, we just sat there in silence. I watched his tail move restlessly behind him, curling and uncurling, the tip flicking back and forth like a metronome counting down to something inevitable.
"Ruby," he said finally, his voice low and rough. "I need to apologize for the shock you suffered yesterday." He stopped, his jaw working. "I never, ever wanted to hurt you. You have to know that."
My throat tightened, tears threatening to spill. "I know."
"After I was rescued from the gladiator pits," he continued, his honey-gold eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch, "I looked for you. I searched everywhere. But my cousin Tarrick—he was the one who assisted in your rescue—he thought you had been taken to Earth." His tail lashed once, sharply.
I stared at him, my heart pounding. "You looked for me?"
"Of course I did." His voice was fierce now, passionate, but not angry. "You think I could just forget? I needed to see you, to explain... What we shared, what happened between us..."
My eyes burned with unshed tears. "Cristox, that's... that's actually why I wanted to talk to you."
He went very still, his entire body freezing, his tail stopping mid-curl. "What do you mean?"
I took a shaky breath, wrapping both hands around my mug. "I wanted to tell you what happened. After you rescued me."
His eyes searched my face, and I noticed the tension in every line of his body, in the set of his broad shoulders, in the way his claws flexed against the table. Waiting. Bracing himself.
"When I came to," I said quietly, "I was in a medi-unit on the Ardeese Valout space station." The memory was still so vivid—the sterile white walls that seemed to glow with their own light, the strange humming of alien medical equipment, the overwhelming confusion and fear. "They told me I'd been through trauma. That I'd been drugged and needed time to heal before transport."
His tail twitched, a small, anxious movement that betrayed his concern.
"I was scheduled to return to Earth," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper, each word feeling like it was being dragged from somewhere deep inside me. "Everything was arranged. The transport, the required memory wipe, all of it." I paused, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my temples, at every pulse point. "But they did a final medical scan before departure."
