Page 23 of Saved By My Alien Husband

22

DELPHINE

W alking into the Eldrin's library, I realized in all my years with Haven I had yet to be here. Neither Haven nor I had an avid reading habit, but it was nice to see how loved this space was. There weren't any authors in recent history on Earth, but we had access to the classics as part of our standardized learning, as well as all the reports from our saviors that specialized in sciences.

As I walked through the shelves, there were piles of tablets organized by genre for both books and other digital entertainment. You could pre-select book options and rent the tablet, or if you had a personal tablet, scan items to add to your own device. There were signs sharing what was new: files sent from other planets and their original home world.

I spotted several of the saviors already getting familiar with the Eldrin language and jump-starting their learning, with screens playing alphabet songs meant for kids. A few of them waved at me, accepting my new position, while others stared with open malice. I'm sure many of the saviors were in shock about the change in their life, trying to find a new outlet to put their energy. If it were me, I probably would have taken a few weeks off to adjust, cry, and complain. But maybe stopping and thinking about it was too painful.

I spotted Alexandra in the center of the library, of course, looking as put together as usual. She also wore one of the insulated jumpsuits, hers in orange.

Standing in front of her table, I cut to the chase. “Tell me, Alexandra, when did you and Michael start seeing each other?”

She didn’t look up from the tablet where she used a stylus to copy the Eldrin word for home.

“I’ve been with him for two years, Princess Delphine,” she said, her tone sharp as a blade. “So don’t even start with your insecure theories again.”

She knew exactly what I was alluding to.

I leaned against the nearest bookshelf, crossing my arms. “Wow, two years in a secret relationship with the most powerful person back home. I’m impressed you managed to keep it quiet without rubbing it in everyone’s faces.”

Begrudgingly, I admitted I was impressed. She’d grown up more than I thought she had.

Alexandra rolled her eyes, her expression exasperated. “As if you are one to talk, sneaking around with an alien prince and not saying a word to anyone for a decade.”

“When Dr. Selvill started suggesting I take medicine to make him go away, I figured I should stop talking about him,” I countered.

She looked up and caught my smirk. With a chuckle, she said, “You losing your mind would have fit. Okay, I see why you kept it a secret then.”

“Glad we can agree on how people see me,” I joked. “But as much as I hate to admit it, it wouldn’t be the same here without you. I came to tell you that and see if we can start fresh, for all the saviors and servers alike. What do you say?”

Her answering smile was small, sad, and entirely unlike her usual bravado. “There are no more saviors and servers anymore, remember?” she said with a raised brow, as if I could forget. “While it’s very irritating that you’re a princess , and our only savior from now on, I agree. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t here either. Let's start over.”

I slid into the seat beside her. “I'd like that.”

“I didn’t think we’d ever be free of it,” Alexandra said, looking back down at her tablet, tracing words.

“Free of what?” I asked, catching a slight tremor in her voice.

“The pressure of saving the world.”

Too stunned to think for a moment, I watched her trace. She swallowed thickly as if she was trying not to cry.

“Saving the world was getting to you?” I asked, voice quiet, just in case she didn't want anyone in the library to hear.

“Yes, actually,” she said.

I frowned, leaning closer. “I don’t understand what that was like, being a savior,” I admitted. “It was a club I always knew I wasn't allowed in, so I judged it harshly. Now that we are here, you can release that pressure, Alex.”

Her shoulders tensed at the sound of her old nickname. For a moment, she looked like she might brush me off. Then, the dam broke.

Tears spilled from her eyes, one after another, faster than she could swipe them away. A sob clogged in her throat as her hands flew up to cover her face.

Without thinking, I pulled her into my arms, rubbing slow circles on her back like Haven had done for me. My gaze darted around the library. A few other saviors were rushing forward as if to help, but I gestured sharply for them to turn away. They did, returning to their tasks with exaggerated focus, pretending they weren't sneaking glances.

For several minutes, we stayed like that. She cried, and I held her, the roommate I had desperately wanted to be my friend before she shunned me. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t bring myself to offer empty reassurances like it’ll all be okay. Truthfully, I didn’t know that it would be, especially with what Michael shared. Soon, we’d be hurtling through space, carrying what was left of humanity, possibly with a tyrannical leader among us.

The pressure wasn’t on Alexandra anymore, but it was most certainly on me.

“Sorry. Thanks, Deli,” she whispered at last, her voice raw as she pulled back and wiped at her tear-streaked face. She picked up the bag she left on the table, packed the tablet, and pulled out a brush and small compact, freshening up.

“Don’t call me that again,” I said, my voice mock-stern. “It’s Princess Deli to you.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she brushed her straight hair. “Let me know if you need anything, Your Highness. I’m sure Michael and I will be at your service.”

She got up, taking the tablet with her, and turned to leave.

I caught her wrist. “Wait.”

“What is it?” she said, her face still flushed.

“Why did you and Michael come out as a couple now?”

Her lips twitched in amusement, but her answer was sincere. “We almost died with our secret, along with the rest of humanity. I wanted to be free of that.” She started walking again, but threw one last line over her shoulder. “And I knew it would bother you.”

“I knew it!” I exclaimed, too loudly for the quiet library.

“You were right,” she admitted, just as the door closed behind her.

I stood there, staring at the space she exited with a smile. Some things would never change. And truthfully, I didn’t want them to.