Page 107 of Pets in Space 10

Itake a deep breath, the kind I usually reserve for calming down panicked astronauts before they embark on multi-year missions to potentially habitable planets.

It’s a technique I’ve perfected, a slow, controlled inhalation that’s supposed to center you, ground you, remind you that you’re a capable, rational human being, even when facing the vast emptiness of space or, you know, a yoga instructor who ghosted you.

It doesn’t work.

My heart is still doing a frantic samba against my ribs, and my palms are so sweaty I could probably water a small succulent.

But at least I don’t look like I’m about to bolt. Which, let’s be honest, is still a very real possibility.

I turn, plastering on my best “therapist” smile, the one that’s supposed to convey empathy, understanding, and a complete lack of judgment, even when your client is convinced their A.I. companion is plotting a hostile takeover of their home.

“Rhys.” My voice is steady, considering the circumstances. “Fancy seeing you here.”

It’s a bland, neutral statement. The kind you’d make to a casual acquaintance you ran into at the grocery store. Not the guy who disappeared after a date where we ate takoyaki, had a deep conversation about humanity’s origin, and shared a kiss that lingered in my mind for months.

He’s standing there, framed by the doorway of his yoga studio, looking… flustered. Which is a minor victory. I’ll take it. His hair is a little longer than I remember, but still a dark, tousled mess. He’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, showcasing a truly impressive set of biceps, and…

Stop it, Rosa.

Professional. Calm. Detached.

You are a therapist.

Analyze. Observe. Do not drool.

“Rosa,” he says again, and this time there’s a hint of…

surprise. A desperate desire to escape this awkward encounter as quickly as possible?

I’m trained to read micro-expressions, to decipher the subtle nuances of body language, but right now, all I’m getting is a vague sense of “deer in the headlights.”

“It’s been a while.” I keep my tone light, conversational.

“A year, I think? Give or take a few months, a few existential crises, and a deeply regrettable attempt to master the art of sourdough baking.” I add a self-deprecating chuckle, because humor is a defense mechanism, and right now, I need all the defenses I can get.

He takes a step closer, and I tense, my fight-or-flight response kicking into overdrive. “Yeah, it has. I… uh…”

He hesitates, and that’s where I draw the line. I did not stay here to be awkward.

“Look,” I say, cutting him off, my therapist's voice firmly in place. “Let’s not pretend this isn’t awkward. It is. You ghosted me. After a great date. And now you’re my yoga instructor, which, frankly, is a plot twist even the most imaginative sci-fi writer couldn’t have dreamed up.”

I pause, tilting my head, my gaze unwavering. “So, here’s the thing. I’m a therapist. I deal with closure. In understanding. In, you know, basic human decency. So, I’m going to ask you, straight up, no chaser, no passive-aggressive ‘Namastes’: What happened?”

My sarcasm is showing. I can’t help it. It’s like a verbal tic, a way to deflect the vulnerability I’m feeling.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “I… it’s complicated.” The words sound lame even to my ears.

“Complicated?” I raise an eyebrow. My therapist voice slips a little, replaced by something sharper, more pointed. “Complicated like a multi-dimensional string theory equation? Or complicated like you couldn’t be bothered to send a simple ‘not feeling it’ text?”

“Complicated like… you wouldn’t believe.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair, a gesture that somehow manages to be both nervous and incredibly attractive. “It’s… Look, can we sit down? Somewhere? Not here, on the sidewalk, with your… dog judging me.”

He glances at my bag, where Raimei is emitting waves of pure canine disapproval.

“He’s very perceptive,” I say, my tone dry. “Picks up on insincerity, flakiness, and a general lack of respect for other people’s time. It’s a gift, really.”

Rhys winces, and okay, maybe I’m laying it on a bit thick. But after a year of wondering, of analyzing, of feeling like I’d somehow imagined the whole connection, I think I’ve earned the right to a little sarcasm.

“There’s a café just around the corner.” He gestures down the street. “Is that… okay?”

Café Mela. Of course it is. Because the universe has a twisted sense of humor…

“Fine,” I say, my voice tight. “Sure.”

We walk in silence, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. I keep my gaze fixed ahead, avoiding eye contact, my knee throbbing a dull protest with each step. Raimei, sensing the shift in my mood, emits a low, rumbling growl from inside the bag.

“He really doesn’t like me, does he?” Rhys says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“He’s protective. Of me. Because, you know, I’m his person. And he’s loyal.”

We reach Café Mela, and I brace myself for another wave of awkwardness. But Karina, bless her heart, is busy behind the counter, and the café is relatively empty. We sit at a small table in the corner, as far away from prying eyes as possible.

Rhys pulls out a chair for me, a small, gentlemanly gesture I ignore. I sit down and place my bag on an empty chair where Raimei can keep a watchful eye on the proceedings.

“Okay,” I say, once we’re settled. “Talk. And don’t leave anything out.”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze meeting mine straight on for the first time since we left the studio. And there it is, that flicker…

“Her name was Chloe,” he begins, his voice low, hesitant. “We’d been together for… a long time. On and off. Mostly off towards the end. But she… she had a way of pulling me back in.”

He pauses. “The night I met you, it was… amazing. You were amazing. Funny, smart, beautiful. I felt… connected. Like I hadn’t in years. Maybe ever.”

I raise an eyebrow, my skepticism clear. “And yet you vanished. Without a word. A text. A carrier pigeon. Anything.”

“I know.” His voice is laced with genuine remorse. “And I’m… I’m so sorry. Chloe, she found out about you. About the date. And she freaked out. She showed up at my apartment, crying, begging, promising… everything. She said she’d changed. That she needed me. That she couldn’t live without me.”

He looks up at me, his eyes pleading for understanding. “I know it sounds pathetic. But she was manipulative. And I decided to give it one last shot.” He shrugs. “I got sucked back in. I told myself it was the right thing to do. That I owed her something. But it was a mistake. A huge mistake.”

He pauses again, his gaze dropping to the table. “It lasted a few months? Maybe less. Until she moved to the capital. For a job. And this time, it’s over. Really over. She’s gone. And I’m… free. But I also know I messed up. Big time. With you.”

Before I can respond, a warm presence interrupts the heavy silence between us. A hand touches my shoulder, and a soft, familiar scent of vanilla and sweet sugar wafts around me.

“Rosa, honey, are you okay? I saw you come in and…” Karina’s voice, usually bright and bubbly, trails off, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the scene. Her gaze flicks from me to Rhys, then back to me, her expression a mixture of concern and quiet assessment.

A blush creeps up my neck. Damn my fair skin. It always gives me away. I force a smile, trying to project an air of casual indifference, like I’m discussing the weather or the latest shuttle schedules. “Hey, Karina. I’m fine. Just… catching up with an old acquaintance.”

I stumble over the word “acquaintance,” the term both inadequate and overly formal. He’s not exactly a friend, not anymore, but “the guy who ghosted me after a mind-blowing date and then reappeared as my yoga instructor” seems a bit too wordy for casual conversation.

“Ah.” She melts into a smile. Karina leans in, pressing a quick, comforting kiss to my cheek. It’s a gesture of affection, a subtle reassurance, a silent “I’m here if you need me.” She’s always been perceptive, able to read my moods with unnerving accuracy. I love that about her.

“This is Rhys.” I gesture towards him with a small, awkward wave. “Rhys, this is my sister-in-law, Karina. She owns this place.”

His eyes widen before he smiles. “Your brother’s wife?”

“Yeah.” I don’t know how he remembered that. “Karina, Rhys is the yoga instructor. From the studio I mentioned.”

“Oh,” Karina says, her voice carefully neutral. “The one who ghosted you?” She raises an eyebrow, a silent question hanging in the air. Are you sure you’re okay? Do I need to unleash my inner protective sister-in-law?

My blush intensifies. “We were just… discussing that,” I say, my voice a little tight. I shoot Rhys a quick, pointed look. See? Even my sister-in-law knows you fucked up.

Rhys clears his throat, his gaze shifting from Karina back to me. “It’s complicated,” he says again, the phrase sounding even lamer the second time around. He offers Karina a small, hesitant smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

Karina returns the smile, but it’s a polite, measured one, the kind you give to a stranger who’s holding up the line at the grocery store. “You too.” Her tone is noncommittal. She turns back to me, her hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment longer. “Coffee? A pastry?”

A coffee or pastry? Nah. I want to get out of here. I do. And those are commitments to a table and a longer conversation.

But I need to know if what he said is true. I need to sort this out for my own sanity, if nothing else. I deserve that much, don’t I?

The question hangs in the air, a subtle test. Karina is giving me an out, a chance to get away. She’s offering her support, her silent promise to intervene if needed.

But…

I deserve answers.

“Sure. Both,” I say and nod. “Rhys?”

He blinks a few times. “Yeah, I’d love that.” Maybe he was expecting me to jump up and run away. I can’t really blame him.

I meet Karina’s gaze, offering a small, reassuring smile. “We’re catching up.”

Karina studies me for a moment longer, her eyes searching mine for any hint of doubt or discomfort. She nods, a slow, deliberate movement conveying both acceptance and a silent warning. I trust you. But I’m watching.

“Okay. I’ll be back. But just let me know if you need anything.” She gives my shoulder a final, reassuring squeeze, then turns and heads back to the counter, leaving me alone with Rhys and the tangled mess of our past.

Once we both have a coffee and pastry, Raimei trots off to stare out the window, and Rhys and I get back on the same page.

The conversation is painful, awkward, and uncomfortable at first. But it’s also…

necessary. I try to listen to him tell me about his life with dispassion, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

I ask questions. He answers them. I relax.

“The studio’s doing okay,” he admits, swirling the foam in his cup.

“My mentor retired a few months ago and left it to me. Teaching is amazing, exactly what I love. But honestly? The business side — scheduling, marketing, all that — it’s way more challenging than I ever imagined. Still figuring that part out.”

I remember him saying something similar when we first met, but back then, he wasn’t running the place.

“Anyway, so, your knee...” He glances down at my brace. “How did that happen?”

I dust off my hands and drain the rest of my coffee.

“I was running in to score a goal, and a player on the opposite team tried to steal the ball.” I shrug.

“She didn’t mean to hurt me, but I tore a ligament, and here I am.

” I raise a finger. “But it was a denial of a goal-scoring opportunity in the box. She got a red card, my teammate took the penalty, and we won.” I smile.

“I live for the little justices in this world.”

He tips his head to the side. “So, will you consider it justice if I take you out on a proper date?”

“You mean a date where there’s follow-up communication? Because that’s where the last date fell down.”

“Yes, all of that and more.” His smile spreads, and my insides liquefy.

But it’s too soon for full forgiveness. Way too soon.

I sigh. “I’ll tell you what. I won’t say no, but I’m also not saying yes. The communication will happen first this time.” I stand up and try not to wince. My knee needs icing. “Call me. I’m going to assume you still have my address, even though you didn’t call last time.”

He leans back in his chair and smiles up at me. “I do. And I will.”

Raimei joins me, putting his paws up on my good leg. I nod to him. “Let’s go home.”

Rhys stands up, and we are now incredibly close. His fingers brush my elbow, and he leans in. “I’m looking forward to communicating with you later.”

My skin erupts in goosebumps, and I do my best to hide them. “We’ll see about that.”