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33
RHIANNON
I probably would have let Nikathy carry me all the way back to his estate out of spite, but I was too relieved to remember that I was angry with him.
"The truck's over there," I pointed out.
He looked from the truck to me and the expression on his face made me wonder if he really had intended to walk all the way home, but eventually he turned toward the vehicle. I could tell he was relieved when we arrived and he helped me into the passenger's seat.
As we pulled out of the port and onto the open roads, I moved my hand across the seat and curled my fingers over his wordlessly. All around us were signs of the battle. The Patrol hadn't reached the city, but there was still something eerily forlorn about the emptied streets and the bits of rubble that did litter the ground. A bomb might not have been dropped here, but the city had been scarred by the experience all the same.
I didn't speak as I watched Nikathy's eyes rove over the once-lively buildings. There was pain in his eyes, a sadness that I couldn't begin to fathom. I wasn't sure he could make sense of it either.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and tightened his hand around mine, and I felt him accelerating as he steered us back through the city to the only place he had left to go. But as we drew nearer to the estate, the lingering memories of the fire came flooding back, and I heard him choke back his grief. Just the sound of it was enough to make tears course down my face. I didn't know who or what I was crying for. Maybe for all the history that had been lost, or all the possibilities unrealized. Either way, we were returning back to a place that was only a tattered remnant of what it had once represented, to Nikathy and to the people of the city.
Instead of pulling up to the main entrance, Nikathy drove around to the side, slowing down as we passed between the overarching bows of the garden's flowering trees. From here, I could hardly see the charred remains at the other end of the estate. At least this place remained untouched, a little slice of something that belonged to us now.
"Rhiannon, I-" he faltered, stopping before I could even get a sense of what he was about to say. I waited expectantly before he continued. "I shouldn't have left you behind."
I chewed my lip, looking at him from the corner of my eye as he stopped the truck under the shade of one of the trees, staring straight ahead over the gardens and the pools.
"Is that all?" I asked, trying to hide the hopefulness that had somehow found its way into my thoughts. But I couldn't resist squeezing his hand a little bit, just in case.
"No," he admitted, in a voice so quiet I wouldn't have thought the formerly boisterous man was even capable of it. "I think... you were made for me."
As the words left his mouth, I saw his face twist up into a puzzled expression, like he wasn't even sure that that was what he meant. Or if I would believe him.
I laughed lightly, turning away and stifling my giggles when his brow furrowed. He looked wounded. So he was being serious.
"You know, when you carried me off of that Patrol ship, I could have sworn you were some kind of superhero. And then, when I met you for the first time, and you showed me all the concern of a man swatting away a particularly annoying gnat, I thought that there had been some kind of mix up. But I'm starting to think that it was the same person all along." I smiled to myself, but I continued. "Nikathy, I was aboard that Patrol ship for so long, I knew I was going to die there. The day you saved me, I knew you were the one. I know it's ridiculous. I know there's no such thing as love at first sight, or whatever. But you saved me, and I had to believe that it was the universe speaking to me."
There was a long silence, and I was starting to think he wasn't going to respond at all. All he did was look deep into my eyes with that desperate, searching expression. Reluctantly, I wondered if Cosma had ever spoken to him like that, but I forced the thought away. That was a discussion for another day. Right now, he was here with me. We had survived the worst of it, and I meant to enjoy the first bit of alone time we'd had since the Patrol was spotted.
"Now, if you don't mind, I need your help getting out of here," I said sweetly.
"Of course," he said, suddenly snapping back into himself and popping open his door.
I watched him trotting around the front of the truck, and then he opened my door and helped me down. It was funny how tired I was after the adrenaline wore off. My legs were like lead, and I thought I might not make it back to the garden room at all, but I mustered the strength to put one foot in front of the other, one of his arms around my waist to support me.
