The cold air coming in from the open terrace door makes the whole room chilly. Huddled under the mass of blankets, tucked into Ronan's body, I get flashes of memories. All of it seems so far away now.
"When I was a little girl," I don't bother to open my eyes, I know he's still awake. "I used to ask my dad to open my bedroom window in December. This is my favorite type of sleep. The air being so cold makes the bed feel warmer, doesn't it?"
"It does," he hums, letting his fingertips graze my shoulder beneath the blankets. He's so still and quiet. He's afraid of me. Afraid that if he touches or kisses the wrong place, if he says the wrong thing, I'll break.
In the hours since... 'it.' I have circled through the different stages of grief. Moving in and out of each emotion with rapid speed, then feeling it again. The only one I haven't felt and probably never will is acceptance. I will never accept this.
He's right to be cautious. A storm is swirling just below the surface, ready to break open, messy and violent with the slightest cause.
Bolting upright, I turn to look at him, my chin trembling. He watches me with wide eyes, frozen, waiting to be impaled by the shrapnel of this explosion.
"I never talked to him about the radio." My voice crackles and wobbles. "I wanted to thank him for telling you that cars had radios but I never got around to it."
"I told him," he whispers so quietly I barely hear it.
"But I didn't. I didn't tell him. I should have! He should have known how much I appreciated it. Now I'll never get the chance!" I jump up from the warmth of the bed and feel the cold air hit me. A wave of emotions is rolling toward me. I can see it but I'm powerless to stop it. I can't outrun it. I can't do anything but watch it come.
It crashes down on my head, sweeping me up in the current. I'm rolling and tumbling below the surface but I can't reach it to take a breath.
"This is the end for us," I choke, staring at him as the new realization punches a hole in my chest.
"No, Nicole, it is not. I will always protect you-"
"No!" A mangled scream rips from my throat. "You don't understand. This is the end! He was the last human man. With his death, that's it, we're extinct! Another human child will never be born."
He reaches for me but I step away.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" I hear the things I'm saying but I can't stop them. Rational Nicole is hiding in the corner watching this, powerless to stop it. Even as the hate-filled words spew from my mouth, I know I'm being irrational. "You don't care about what happened to him because you think he's not deserving of life. So lowly and insignificant that it's better that he's dead!"
"Nicole," his voice is still soft, even with the pain in his eyes.
"No!" I'm hysterical, screaming. "Admit that you are happy he's gone because now, no more weak, greedy, worthless humans to muck up your planet!"
I didn't want to have a child with him. To my knowledge, neither did Clarisse. I can't pinpoint what it is about the idea that makes me cling to it. Even if he had lived, the likelihood of a human child being born is extremely low.
Taking a cautious step forward, he puts his hands out in front of him. He approaches me the way one would approach an injured, feral animal.
"Nicole, Dr. Santigo sacrificed himself and in doing so, possibly saved your life. I have never held anyone, human or An'eo, in such high regard. I know that I do not understand your pain." His voice is so gentle it makes me hurt more. " We are not in the same situation. However, I can say with certainty that I would feel profound sorrow. I realize that my previous judgments have caused you to believe that I do not care about his death or the survival of your race but you are wrong, Ya'abe."
YOU ARE READING
Callisto: Bound to the Alien Commander |18+
FantasyDr. Nicole Isbel is put into cryosleep. When she awakens, the world is no longer how she left it. Humans have abandoned her...but why? Follow the journey of Dr. Isbel as she encounters strange extraterrestrial beings and forms a "unique" relationshi...