“It’s nothing,” Mia lied, silently cursing the fact that her voice was shaking, “I just . . . g-get this way when I’m stressed –”
His frown got deeper. “Why are you so stressed? Is it your papers?” he asked, studying her with a perplexed look in his eyes.
Mia nodded slightly, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to calm herself. He might become suspicious if her tears didn’t have a good explanation. Unless . . .
Opening her eyes, she looked at him, no longer caring if he saw the glimmer there. “I really miss my family,” she confessed, and it was the truth. In this moment, she desperately wanted to be a child again, safe and sound in her parents’ house, with her mom making chicken soup with matzah balls and her dad reading a newspaper on the couch. She wanted to turn back the clock and go back to the last decade, to a time before people knew that there was life on other planets – and that their own planet would not belong to them much longer. To a time before she met the alien who was staring at her now with his beautiful amber eyes – the lover whom she had no choice but to betray.
Korum seemed to accept her explanation. “Mia,” he said quietly, letting go of her chin, “you’ll see them soon, I promise. I’m getting closer to completing my business here, and then I will take you there –”
“I haven’t even told them yet that I’m not coming,” said Mia, her voice thick with tears. “They’re expecting me this Saturday, and my plane ticket is nonrefundable –”
He looked exasperated. “Are you worrying about money now? I will refund you the cost of the ticket –”
“My parents are the ones who bought it.”
“Okay, then I will refund the cost to your parents.” Taking a deep breath, he added, “Mia, you don’t ever have to worry about these logistics when you’re with me. I’ll always take care of you and your family – you don’t need to stress about money ever again. I know your parents’ finances are tight, and I would be more than happy to assist them financially – or in whichever way they need.”
Mia swallowed a sob, feeling like an iron fist was squeezing her heart. As arrogant and high-handed as that statement was, she had no doubt that he was genuine in his offer. “Th-thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking, “that’s very . . . generous of you –”
“Mia,” he said softly, “I care about you, okay? I want you to be happy with me, and I will do whatever I can to make that happen.”
His every word felt like he was cutting her with a knife, and she could no longer hold back. Burying her face in the pillow, she turned away from him and broke down crying, her entire body shaking from the force of her sobs.
“Mia?” His voice sounded uncertain for the first time since she’d met him. “What . . . Why are you crying?”
She cried even harder. She couldn’t tell him the truth, and the guilt was like acid in her chest, eating her up inside.
Tentatively touching her back, he stroked it in a soothing manner, murmuring little endearments. When that didn’t seem to help, he pulled her into his arms, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck and cry while he stroked her hair.
So Mia cried. She cried for herself, and for him, and for the relationship that could never be . . . not even if he weren’t the enemy that she’d been spying on.
After a few minutes, when her sobs began to quiet down, he reached somewhere and handed her a tissue, letting her wipe her face and blow her nose before asking softly again, “Why?”
Mia looked at him, her vision still blurry with tears. The full truth was out of the question, of course, but she could tell him something that had been tormenting her for a while. “This is not right,” she whispered, her voice rough with residual tears. “You, me – it’s not right, it’s not natural . . . And it can never last –”
“Why not?” he said softly. “It can last for as long as we want it to last.”
“You’re not human,” she said, looking at him in disbelief. “How could it ever work for us?”
He hesitated for a second and then said, gently brushing her hair off her face, “It can – just trust me on that, darling. I can’t really say more right now, but we will talk about it later . . . when the time comes.”
Mia blinked in surprise, staring at him. This was something she hadn’t expected. Did he mean that there was some way for them to be together . . . as an actual couple? The implications of that were too big to contemplate right now, with her head pounding and her mind barely functioning in the aftermath of her emotional storm.
He pulled away then and got off the bed. “I’ll bring you something to make you feel better,” he said, and left the room.
Mia looked at the door, stifling a hysterical giggle at the thought that this was becoming a nightly occurrence. She just hoped he didn’t bring back the little tube.
He brought back a glass filled with some kind of milky liquid and handed it to her.
“What is it?” she asked, sniffing it with suspicion. It didn’t smell like anything.
He grinned at her, showing the dimple. “Not poison, I promise. It’s just a little something to help you sleep better and take away your headache.”
How did he know that her head was hurting? Mia blinked at him again.
As though reading her mind, he said, “I know how humans feel after crying. This drink is meant more for helping with a cold or a flu, but it doesn’t have any harmful side effects, so you might as well drink it now and feel better.”
Mia