Page 20

Chapter Twenty

Roth’kar

I’ve never felt an agony as excruciating as seeing how badly I destroyed everything with Amara. It seethes under the surface of my skin, knowing how I’ve hurt her and that there is no way I can fix it.

Even in her sadness and her fury, she is generous, wanting to complete the marriage so that I can stay on Earth. Perhaps that injures me most of all—that she will do this to help me even when it hurts her.

I want to blame Zono, but it’s not his fault. I was the one who lied, she is right. I used the Matching Program to escape, not caring who was on the other end. And now that’s caught up to me.

Things may be different for me now, but she has no reason to believe that. She doesn’t know what’s in my soul.

As much as I want to fight, Amara has closed her doors to me. She has locked me away, steeled her heart to me, and I’m not sure that any amount of fighting would break through.

And so, I will simply do what I can to make sure that, when she asks me to leave, I’ll have done the best I could to be her mate. I don’t know what will come after when she files for a divorce.

That word makes me shiver.

Only two more days until Gazargo returns for our signatures, and Amara marries me—just for me to lose her right after.

That night, she retires to her room early, and I sit on the couch simply thinking, wishing I knew how to fix this. When I finally go to bed, I’m exhausted, too tired to even attend to my hungry culans. They don’t understand why I’m not with Amara, sunk inside her while I kiss her soft lips.

I prepare breakfast again in the morning, which Amara eats without speaking.

Once she’s left for work, I take down the Halloween decorations, dread building in my belly for tomorrow.

That’s when Amara and I will sign our names on the tablet to officially be married—a marriage I will never get to enjoy.

Afterward, I decide to head to the park. Perhaps the falling leaves will spark an idea and give me some solution to my problem, if there is one.

Sylvia and her daughter, Izzy, are playing on the playground when I arrive. Izzy runs over, and it is probably the one bright point in my day when she skids to a halt in front of me, buzzing with questions. We begin our walk, and I answer her as best I can.

While Izzy is distracted by a dog coming the other way, Sylvia tips her head in my direction. “You seem sad today, Roth’kar.”

I can’t possibly express what I really feel with words, the bottomless pain I feel knowing what’s coming, so I simply nod.

“What happened? I thought things were going well with the wife?”

I stuff my lower hands in the pocket of my jeans, a habit I’ve picked up since living on Earth. My other pair of arms cross over my chest protectively. “She has asked me to leave.”

Sylvia’s taken aback. “Really? Why? That’s awful.”

“I made a mistake when this all began. I came here under false pretenses. I lied to her.”

There, I’ve said it. And knowing Amara now, knowing how she is always honest and trusting, I also understand why it cut her deep.

“I’m surprised to hear that.” Sylvia interrupts herself to call Izzy, who has now run off into the grass to investigate the duck pond. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

I shrug. “It is the truth. And now my wife wants nothing more to do with me.”

“Well, if you need somewhere to stay, we have a couch.” She sighs. “That’s so sad. You seemed like a good match.”

“We are,” I say firmly. “I believe that we would have been a very good pair. We complement each other well, and we have… a certain attraction to one another.”

Her brows draw together. “Then why does it sound like you’ve accepted that it’s over?”

“Because she has made that clear to me.”

And I don’t want to encroach on Amara further when she has already given me so much, and once we separate, she plans to give me more to help me get on my own two feet. It is the worst outcome, surely, but there’s nothing I can do to change it now that she’s made up her mind.

I have learned much about my wife in the last few days. I thought her sweet and soft, but she is also fierce to protect herself.

“So you’re just going to roll over?” Sylvia asks.

“Roll over?”

“You’re going to roll over like a dog and let it happen.”

“I will never be like a dog.” I cross my arms even tighter across my chest.

“Then don’t act like one,” Sylvia says as Izzy comes running back from examining the ducks. “She must care about you.”

“She did.” I feel certain about this. “But not anymore.”

“Surely she still does. Those feelings don’t just go away overnight.”

Little does she know about Amara. Her devotion and love are just as deep as her hurt.

Sylvia pats my arm. “Put up a fight. Don’t let her go. Figure out how to get through to her, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t have a life without her,” I say, without realizing the words have left my lips. “She is the only thing in the world that has ever mattered to me.”

It’s true, now that I’ve said it aloud. Never have I cared for someone like Amara. Never have I wanted for someone’s happiness like Amara’s. And that is why, if she thinks she would be better without me, it’s my job to let her have that.

“What are you talking about?” says Izzy, taking her mother’s hand.

“Roth’kar’s wife. She’s mad at him. What do you think he should do to make it up to her?”

Izzy taps her chin. “Flowers are boring. You have to show you’re really sorry.”

Sylvia nods in agreement.

“What does your wife like?” Izzy asks. “You should get her something you know she really, really wants. Something that would make her happy again.”

I don’t think anything I gave her would clear away the stain of what I’ve done.

“Maybe something that she really needs ,” Sylvia attempts. “You know her well now, don’t you? What is missing in her life? Show her you understand her.”

Show her I understand her . I do understand Amara, I believe. Perhaps too well, and that’s how I know that no matter what, it won’t work.

But there might be something I can do to make her life better even after I’m gone, and that is the best I can do.

I explain my idea to Sylvia and she agrees to it. That afternoon, she drives me to the animal shelter, Izzy bouncing in the back seat.

Amara has told me many times about her cat, Elvis, who she had for most of her adult life. He meant the world to her, and when he passed away, she couldn’t contain her loneliness any longer. It was the trigger, more or less, for her applying to the Matching Program.

I know she will be lonely after I leave, so I’ll do this to ensure that someone can be there for her when she’s by herself again.

Even as we approach the shelter, I can’t mistake the sound of barking dogs. I shudder, but Sylvia encourages me on as we walk inside the building.

There are cats everywhere. In cages, walking around on the countertop, sleeping in beds on the floor and climbing carpeted structures. Cats, cats, and more cats. I have my pick, it would seem.

We approach the front desk, where a receptionist has a very tiny dog on her lap. I jump back, but it barely lifts its head as she pets it.

“An alien!” She grins in that wide, brilliant way humans do. “Wow. Cool.”

“Hello.” I offer my hand to her to shake, and a little perplexed, she accepts. “I am here to take a cat home to my wife.”

Her brows rise. “Oh! You’re looking for a new furry friend, huh? Well, you came to the right place.” She stands up, still holding the tiny dog. “Sarah! This guy wants a cat. Can you help him out?”

Another woman appears, older but somehow more spritely, and she hurries over.

“We have many to choose from,” she says in a smooth voice. “What are you looking for in a new forever friend?”

“He will be my wife’s, erm, forever friend.”

She cocks a brow. “Oh, okay. Well, what is she looking for?”

I have to think hard about this. She needs someone sturdy and reliable. Someone who will curl up next to her at night, and who will have plenty of love to dole out.

“An affectionate cat,” I say at last.

“We’ve got plenty of snugglers.” She points out a few cats in the main room before leading us back to the “cat room.” It’s swarming with the small animals.

One of them immediately walks up to me and sniffs my leg.

I reach down to pet it cautiously, and it lifts its head into my hand.

It is brown all over with black striping and is very handsome.

“That’s Bernard. He’s a good guy. Older than some of the others and definitely cuddly. He loves attention.”

Yes. That’s what Amara will need. A good, older male that will cuddle. And hopefully keep the spiders away.

“I choose him, then.” I pick up the little animal carefully, and he has no complaints as I cradle him in my arms. After a while of petting his head, his body starts making a low rumbling noise. “That’s odd. He is vibrating.”

“Purring! He likes you.” Sarah looks pleased. “I guess he picked you back. Want me to start the paperwork?”

I nod, holding Bernard close to my chest. I think he will be just what Amara needs.

It is a sharp, smooth piece of scrap metal, driven right into my heart.

Sylvia drops me off at home after I have secured the things the cat will need. It took all my remaining bucks to buy the litter box, bed, and food, but Bernard should have everything a cat would want, including a toy at the end of a string.

Bernard is happy to be carried, and when released inside Amara’s house, he starts sniffing everything. Before long, he is settled on the couch—not where I had intended, given I purchased him his own bed—but I get the sense I cannot tell Bernard what to do.

I start on dinner, a recipe I have not seen Amara make, but I think it will work given what I’ve learned about human food. Amara especially loves peppers, so I will use many of the mild ones. I also make her favorite rice to go with it.

I turn when I hear her footsteps outside the front door. The knob turns and the door opens, and Amara comes inside with her shoulders tight.

“Welcome home,” I say. She stiffens even further. I know my presence here hurts her. “I have a surprise.”

Her brows knit together. “Why? Don’t get me things. I don’t want?—”

But I am already picking up Bernard and holding him up for her. Her eyes go round, and she takes a few hesitant steps toward us.

“Is that a cat, Roth’kar?” she asks, though it is obvious to both of us that it is.

“I am not trying to buy your affection.” I feel this is important to clarify. “This is not a gift so that you’ll reconsider. But I worry about… when you are alone.”

Her frown gets deeper. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I will!” I grit my teeth together. “I will. But if Bernard is with you, then I know you won’t be alone when I am gone.”

Most unexpectedly, Amara’s eyes grow wet and shining. She takes another step closer, and I offer Bernard to her, who is purring in my arms.

She takes him uncertainly, but he is already content, curling up in the crook of her elbow. Tears stream from her eyes as she looks down at the furry animal, and then she hugs him, clutching him close to her chest.

I think it was a good gift.