I wanted her because I so desperately wanted to be free of this world and the dark mark that humans gave to me. I thought by taking her, I could find freedom.
I wasn’t wrong.
But that very idea had me chained up more than I was willing to admit. I never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted to see her this broken.
Now that I have her, I can’t let her go, emotionally, physically, or mentally. What binds me in further is the idea of leaving Avalon. Where will we go?
Will Earth welcome a freak like me with open arms?
I stroke and pet her hair. “You hold a lot inside that heart of yours,” I say.
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot I haven’t told you either.”
I kiss her temple. Her scent holds me like a mother to child. “Forgive me,” I say. “I’ve told you so much about me. I haven’t given you a chance to tell me about you. Tell me what happened to the people in the photograph you dropped.”
From my chest, she glances up. “Do you really care?”
I lean forward, nuzzling my nose against the side of her head, breathing her in. I place her hand against my chest. Heart thumping, I say, “We are together, now. You feel this?”
She exhales and nods, scared but ready to let me in.
“This is real,” I say.
“There was a car crash,” she says. “We were coming home from Sunday lunch at Susan’s Diner. Dad used to call it Sunday Funday. I used to hate that. This time, though, everything was a little different. You know, just odd… Everyone was quiet, and I just remember having this feeling of absolute love. I was just so happy to be alive with the people that raised me.”
She hesitates and wipes more tears. I can’t cry. I don’t have the tear glands. But I’m listening and hanging on to every word she tells me. “I was going through a hard time, I guess. I was young and afraid. School was a nightmare,” she says. “But at that stupid diner, I was just in awe of what my parents made.”
She swallows and looks at me with the utmost earnestness. “And then my dad set his coffee down on the table, said we had to go. That was that,” she says.
“You don’t have to say anymore if it hurts,” I say.
She shakes her head. It’s okay. She wants to keep speaking. “My little sister died that day, too,” she says, hanging her head. “I’ve never told anyone that. Not Roy. Not Hugh. Definitely not Fassbender. Even before this mission, I kept it to myself. She became my ghost.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
She rocks against me. “She’s not in the photograph,” she says. “It was taken before she was born. But I kept it anyway. It was my punishment. I didn’t protect her. I couldn’t keep her safe.”
Events happen in chaotic fashion. There is no rhyme or reason to why things exist, but the effects of every event have long lasting implications.
They constrict our souls.
“You are stronger than you know,” I say.
“I tried to harden myself with these missions. Every award I received for my work was another nail on my cross. I used to think to myself, if I just do one more, I can finally get there. But I’m not hard. Deep down, I’m soft.”
I hug her close, make her feel protected, and then I let her go. “I know who you are,” I say. “Hard or soft, I like every bit of you. You are deep and caring. Your strength, believe it or not, knows no bounds. You traveled across the universe. Who else has done that?”
“Yeah, I traveled across the universe just to fall apart,” she says. “Can’t you see? I’m broken, Turin. You’re falling for someone who is a total mess.”
“I love a good mess.”
I expect her to have an epiphany and leave, but she does the complete opposite. Coming back to me, she takes off her shirt. She glides her hands up my chest and kisses me.
Tongues rediscovering, I feel her goodness sweep into me.
Maybe I can be like her. Maybe it’s not all for nothing.
“I want you,” she says. “Forever.”