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"We do." He buries his face against my neck, crying, and it only adds to my pain. In time, he will forget her, I tell myself.
I am not certain I ever will, though.
26
STEPH
I try not to panic. Logic tells me that Juth is upset, that he needs some time away to think about things. That once he's ready to talk, we can discuss things. That until then, it's best that he get it out of his system, and when we're in a place to be calm, we can hash things out.
Logic tells me that's the best move.
It's just…my heart wants me to race after him. To beg him not to leave, to let me explain. To throw away hours and hours of psychology classes and cling to his leg, shouting that I love him. Logically, I know that you can't change a person. That if they're determined to leave, you can't stop them. And I know my actions should speak for themselves. If I wasn't in love with him, why would I touch him all the time? Be with him? Care about what happens to him so much?
Just because he was the one that suggested it first and I went along with it doesn't make it wrong. Just because it started as a misunderstanding doesn't change my feelings for him.
He just needs to stop and think.
So I take a few shuddering breaths, fight back my tears, and return to camp.
When he's ready to talk, I'll be here.
As night falls, Juth and Pak don't return. I'm sure several people saw the blow-up and Juth storm away, because no one asks me questions about it. It just makes me feel worse. Did I do wrong in not talking to Juth about our mating? Should I have said, hey, actually, you didn't ask me properly but it's cool because I like you?
I thought it didn't matter because we were happy. I thought that was obvious. I told him I loved him. Doesn't he get what a big deal that is? Or does he think I was lying about that, too? That all of this is just a big farce for him to join the tribe?
Which…if so, it's a little insulting that he'd think I'd fuck him and suck his dick just so he'd be part of our group. Like, what kind of person does he think I am?
I go to sleep alone, and I worry about Juth. I worry about Pak, too. Is he going to miss me? Does he understand why his dad stormed away? Or is he confused and upset? My poor little buddy.
My poor Juth. I roll over in the furs, unable to sleep, because his scent is in the blankets we share. Normally this time of night, I'd be sliding under the furs to take his cock in my mouth, or he'd put his hand between my thighs to get me off before bedtime. We'd both be so furtive and quiet it was like a sexy game, and just thinking about that makes me ache.
He's coming back, I tell myself. He needs a night to himself, to work through his feelings, and then when he returns in the morning, we'll talk.
But in the morning, he isn't back, and I feel more helpless than ever. This isn't like having a fight back on Earth, where someone is only a phone call or a text away. If he just keeps walking and never returns…I can't ever explain to him the truth. He could just keep on going and never return, thinking I'm a terrible user.
The thought makes my stomach churn.
I drift through my chores that day, ignoring the pitying looks of the tribe. A few people come up to me, letting me know they're there for me if I want to talk, but I'm not sure I do. Juth will come back, I tell myself. He'll come back and I'll explain everything and then we'll kiss and it'll all be fine. He'll forgive me, and I'll show him I love him, and we'll be fine.
Juth and Pak aren't back the next day, either, though, and the hollow, awful feeling in my stomach grows worse.
I sit on a fur blanket inside Bridget's pottery cave, spreading out collected leaves to dry for tea…and crying.
The last time I was here, I was with Juth, and we made love. I thought I couldn't be happier than that moment, but I also smugly took it for granted. I'd assumed we'd have all the time in the world to make love over and over again. That I had a lifetime of touches and affection and good sex to look forward to. So I cry as I dry the leaves, because at least here, I'm away from the sympathetic looks of the tribe. No one's giving me that expression of pity, or understanding. I'm by myself, which means I don't have to hold my shit together. I can cry it out for a while, and then move on.
