The corner of his mouth twitches, and I can’t tell if he’s about to smile or frown disapprovingly, which makes me hate myself for mocking a woman he’s clearly quite close to.
“I mean, she seems like she’d be a lovely woman to those she cares about.”
At that, he exhales a laugh and the sound is so soothing I wish I still had a phone so I could set this as my ringtone. “You’re right about her. She can be gruff at times. Most times.”
Every part of my body softens at his approval.
“I have the night off, but could you start tomorrow?”
Did he just offer me the job?It feels too easy. “Uh, are you sure?” I can’t help but ask.
He stares at me a beat too long and finally says, “I’m quite sure, yes.”
Chapter 4
JUNE
Day one is easier than I expect it to be. After Zivren leaves for work, I make Akkal a nut-butter bun with toastedgruukpetals, which is the island version of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, except the nut is from an alien planet, and instead of jelly it’s a bunch of crispy flower petals that are slightly sweet. Then we go outside and play with his warrior toys in the sand until the sky turns dark. I let him listen to two stories on his headphones––a nightly routine with a hard limit of two, according to Zivren––and he conks out immediately after.
The silver box on the family room wall is the island version of a TV, projector, and stereo, I’m pretty sure, but I find it way too intimidating to mess with. Instead I let it play the acoustic music that was on when I arrived as I settle onto the couch beneath a blanket.
Akkal is shy, mostly talking to his toys and not me, but that could also be because he’s an only child. I understand the comfort of remaining inside the safety of your own imagination. When there’s no one else to play with, you are all you’ve got.
That was my life until I turned twelve. My parents were workaholics who likely shouldn’t have had kids at all. Then they died in a car accident.
And nothing turns you into a sovereign soul like entering the foster care system. My imagination went from a fun place to hang out to my lifeline to sanity. Every house, every family, every bed was temporary. I swung from one foster home to the next until I turned eighteen. It wasn’t until I became a legal adult that I felt like I could finally breathe. The roots I planted were my own, and I didn’t have to rely on anyone else to provide them.
There’s a mental toughness only children can naturally hone as their brain develops, and it keeps them in check during moments of personal crisis when they grow up. I can see it in Akkal. In the way he wordlessly crafts entire narratives for his toys without needing any outside feedback. If he’s deep in play mode, I’m not sure he even notices my presence.
It can look a lot like loneliness from the outside, but I know if I could peek inside his mind, I’d find entire universes thoughtfully constructed and stories for each face that would span centuries. When your inner world is that bright, it’s next to impossible for the darkness of the outer world to pull you under.
I left Akkal’s bedroom door open wide enough so I could hear him stirring after he fell asleep, but I haven’t heard a peep yet.
As I stretch out on the couch, I make a mental note to bring a change of pajamas with me tomorrow. Wearing a sleeveless dress seemed like a fine idea at the time, but now that I’m lying down and see how easy it would be for my boob to pop out the side––covered in a bra that’s lacy and see-through, aka useless in terms of coverage—I regret my outfit choice. I don’t want Zivren walking in to find me like that. I’m already on thin ice with the drowning and fasuun spill, and despite hiring me, it seems like he’d rather drink a gallon of blood-red sea water than be in the same room with me for too long.
I can’t figure out what it is exactly. Maybe he’s freaked out by humans? Or we give him the ick? Whatever it is, I just know I make him uncomfortable. Hopefully it’s something we can rectify with time.
I wake to the feeling of being poked in the shoulder. Zivren is standing next to the couch, looking down at me with a furrowed brow and his front arms crossed, back hands planted on his hips.
“Hi. Good morning,” I mumble through a yawn, pushing myself up to a seated position. I stretch my arms out, cracking my neck from side to side. “How was your shift?”
“Mm. Fine.”
Okay. I guess that’s all I’m going to get on that topic.
“Akkal was a perfect angel.” I get to my feet and fold the blanket before tossing it on the back of the couch. “So polite and well-behaved. You’re raising a good one, you know.”
That earns me a half-smile. “Yes, he’s a sweet boy.”
I gather my things, and Zivren walks me to the door. He reaches around me, and I take it as an invitation to hug him. I’m so starved for physical touch I lean into it eagerly, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head against his chest.
He pats me on the back once, awkwardly, and I realize he’s not fully hugging me back. “Uh...”
I pull away and see he was aiming for the door, and all the blood in my body rushes to my cheeks. “Sorry. I thought you were,” I gesture with my hands, trying to explain, trying to backtrack, but only making it worse. “Anyway. Sorry.”
I turn to face the door and get the hell out of there when I feel something brush against my ass. Goosebumps race across my skin.
“My apologies!” His tone is frantic, and his eyes are as wide as saucers. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
