It hurts more than I ever could have imagined. My throat constricts. A fist takes my heart in its palm and squeezes mercilessly. I want to yell. I want to break. But with Vee wrapped so fiercely around me, I somehow manage to withstand.
“Okay,” I rasp. “Okay.”
“He won’t report me. We’ll be fine.”
Marlowe forces back something that sounds like a sob, steeling her spine and throwing her shoulders back. When she reaches for Vee, he falls into her arms instead. I feel bereft at the loss.
“I—” The words catch in my mouth. “I wish we’d had more time.”
After this, the odds we’ll ever see each other again are so low that there would be no point in trying to calculate them. No point in hoping we’ll one day bump into each other. I spend most of my time on a ship, with only brief layovers in-between. I don’t know how to do anything else.
The time we spent entangled has turned me inside out. It’s ridiculous; it’s undeniable.
“I do, too. Our lives are better for knowing you, Tanisira. Thank you for everything you did.”
Vee peers at me with those liquid green eyes. “You won’t forget us, right?”
That nearly takes me to my knees. I dredge a smile up from somewhere. “Forget you? Never.”
His watery grin is worth every coal I dragged those words across.
“We already said goodbye to the crew, but.” Marlowe wipes at her cheeks. “Please thank them again for us. We’re so indebted to you all.”
I don’t understand why they won’t wait until we at least touch Martian soil. I want to grasp for any additional minutes with them I can get, but Marlowe seems determined to go.
I wish we’d spoken last night. I wish we’d woken up in each other’s arms. I wish, I wish, I wish.
Then Eduard and Mae are flanking Marlowe, dressed to leave the ship.
“Let’s go,” Eduard says.
I glare at them, but Marlowe doesn’t look surprised. She’s resigned. Hooking the suitcase with one hand, she starts forward. I step into her path before I can question it, turning to Eduard.
“What’s the hurry?”
He looks at me dispassionately. It’s Mae who answers, her smirk fixed. “We’re escorting them to the compound, and Mr Gryphon is on a tight schedule.”
I seethe. “Escorting? Or herding?”
Marlowe exhales slowly. “Tanisira, don’t. It’s fine.”
“It is not,” I practically yell, desperately losing my grip on restraint. “Gryphon doesn’t own you.”
She grimaces, and it physically hurts. None of it matters; Marlowe skirts me, pausing only a moment to show me the plea in her eyes.
And all I can do is step aside and let it go.
Let her go.
As soon as Marlowe and Vee disembark the ship, the team head for the pub, but I can’t stand the idea of having to function around other people. With no communication from Gryphon, there’s nothing for the crew to do but enjoy what might be their last night on the job. I could go with them for a night of drinking, but I promised myself I’d never follow in myBava’sfootsteps. Sometimes I would love nothing more than to drown my sorrows—with memories of his worst days buried in my head, I can never let myself.
I search out my new ship instead. With the name, I can crosscheck the many screens around Red Horizon, detailing which vessels occupy the bays. I find theHomeboundon the other side of the station. Liz wasn’t joking when she said she’d find me a piece of junk.
The ship has seen its fair share of years and is worn, battered, and unassuming. But it’s also sleek and small, which means fast—as long as it doesn’t need too much work. It’s a faded cedar colour with accents of rusted copper. Despite myself, I smile a little. It’s not how I pictured my first ship, nor how I imagined I’d acquire it, but it’smine. I thought I’d never get to this point. I’m also relieved that Liz—who is almost a stranger—didn’t run off with my life savings, diminished as they were by the meds I got from Ryker.
It’s a bittersweet moment.
As I’m circling the ship, noting repairs I’ll need to make, the cargo bay opens. A figure stands at the top of the ramp, wearing a crisp shirt tucked into a black corset, complete with matching satin tie, walnut shoulder harness and dark trousers.
