“I also let them know it was your idea.”
She stared at him, surprised. “Why?”
“Because it was.” His tail finally completed its journey, wrapping gently around her waist in that casual, affectionate gesture that had already become so familiar. “And because I thought they should know that someone is thinking of them. That they’re not alone in this.”
The simple, thoughtful kindness of his gesture made her eyes burn with unexpected tears. She blinked them back fiercely,unwilling to cry in front of him, but something in her chest felt like it was crumbling.
She’d been so alone for so long.
Not just here, in this cell, but for years before that. Running the reproductive center back on Earth, she’d been surrounded by colleagues and patients and staff, but none of them had truly seen her. She’d been Dr. Desai, the efficient director, the consummate professional. No one had bothered to look past the title to the woman underneath.
And before that?—
“My parents arranged a fiancé for me once,” she heard herself say. The words spilled out unbidden, startling her almost as much as they seemed to startle him. “Did I ever tell you that?”
“No.” His voice was soft, inviting her to continue.
“I was twenty-four and just finishing my residency. They were very traditional—first-generation immigrants from India, determined that I would marry a nice Indian boy from a good family and give them grandchildren.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Vijay Patel. He was handsome, successful, and came highly recommended. My mother showed me his photograph like she was selling a used car.”
His tail tightened almost imperceptibly around her waist. “What happened?”
“We had dinner. Several dinners, actually. He was perfectly pleasant—polite, educated, charming when he wanted to be.” She looked down at Robbie, smoothing a hand over his fuzzy head. “But he never once asked me what I wanted. Never wondered about my dreams or my fears or what made me laugh.He talked about his career, his family’s expectations, and the house he planned to buy. And whenever I tried to talk about what was important to me, he would nod and smile and then change the subject back to himself.”
The memory still stung, even after all these years. The message that her thoughts and her ambitions simply didn’t matter to the people who were supposed to love her.
“I called it off after two months,” she continued. “My parents didn’t speak to me for almost a year. They said I was selfish and ungrateful, and that I would end up alone and it would be my own fault.”
“They were wrong.”
The fierce conviction in his voice made her look up. His black eyes were burning with anger and protectiveness. His free hand had curled into a fist.
“Your family should have honored you,” he said. “They should have seen what you are—what you’re worth. Any male who couldn’t appreciate the gift of your attention doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
The heat rose in her cheeks and her stomach fluttered again. “That’s… that’s a very dramatic response to an old dating story.”
“It’s the truth.”
And the worst part was, she believed him. She could see in every line of his body and every flicker of emotion in his eyes, that he meant exactly what he said. Vijay had never looked at her like that. No one had ever looked at her like that.
“You’re different,” she said quietly. “From what I expected. From what I assumed all of this would be like.”
His tail unwound from her waist, sliding down to rest against her hip—a question, not a demand. She didn’t pull away.
“I thought I knew what Naran wanted,” he admitted. “I thought I understood the necessity to help our people survive, whatever the cost. But then I met you, and—” He stopped, his jaw working. “You made me question everything I believed was true.”
“That sounds uncomfortable.”
“Incredibly.” His mouth curved in a small smile. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Robbie chose that moment to let out a demanding cry, his small face scrunching up with displeasure. She laughed despite herself, shifting him against her shoulder and rubbing his back soothingly.
“Someone’s hungry.”
“I should go.” But he didn’t move, his gaze lingering on her and the baby with an expression that made her heart ache. “Let you have some peace.”
“Becsul.” She reached out before she could stop herself, her fingers brushing against the subtle texture of his forearm. He went utterly still at the contact. “Thank you. For what you did for the other women. And for me. For everything.”
“It’s not enough.”
