Page 69 of He Will Always Love Me

This morning, I wake from another agonizing memory and see that Hyx is already awake and staring up at the ceiling. He’s with me, but I know that his mind is galaxies and centuries away.

I snuggle closer to him. “Who were you this time?”

“Karvex,” he replies. “I’m usually Karvex.”

I yawn. “I was Maya in my dreams last night. She had the shittiest life out of all of them near the end, and there’s a part of me that’s still processing it. I think that’s why I dream about her more than anyone else.”

“I think I feel the worst about my life as Karvex the Reaper. I lost you twice in that one.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” I say, propping myself up on my elbow. “You never lost me. We always found each other in the end.”

He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my lips. His hands wander down as he deepens it, but we can’t. Not now anyway.

Reluctantly, I break the kiss. “We have work to do, Hyx.”

The Hivemind Tree had helped us build this house, but we still have to be the ones to maintain the place and work the land. As much as I love our little slice of paradise, it requires a lot of upkeep.

Pushing myself off him, I flash a cheeky grin. “Well, what are you waiting for, love? I have solar panels to repair, and you have a garden to weed.”

He throws his head back and sighs. “Five more minutes?”

Giggling, I toss my pillow at him and get to my feet. “Last one to the kitchen does the dishes.”

Before he can protest, I sprint out of the room. Even with a head start, Hyx quickly closes the gap, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me close to him. But still, I set foot in the kitchen first. “I win,” I say breathlessly.

He kisses my neck, sending shivers of pleasure through me. “Only because I let you win.”

I wriggle from his grasp and set up the food synthesizer that we recovered from the ship we first landed here on. Pancakes and scrambled Qurax eggs sound good. “Liar. You’re just saying that because you’re embarrassed that I beat you.”

“You keep telling yourself that, babe.”

Pressing the buttons on the synthesizer, I watch the food materialize. “Who cares? You still have to do the dishes.”

He rolls his eyes but gratefully accepts his plate when I give it to him. “The things I do for love.”

In all our lives, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hyx this relaxed. In my memories as Alana and Maya, his eyes are always darting about as he performs a mental threat assessment at every shadow. His muscles are always tense, coiled like a snake ready to strike. He’s prepared for anything.

But here, he laughs and smiles easily. He’s watchful but not wary.

Of course, there are days when I can tell he’s recalled something painful. There are days when we’re both overwhelmed by everything and everyone we’ve been. But those days are becoming fewer and further between.

I press a kiss to his cheek and grab my own food. The synthesizer stuff is rarely as good as food made by hand, but this meal hits the spot.

There’s just something about Jwoon III that makes it feel like paradise. The air is sweeter and more fragrant. The temperature is always perfect. The songs of Qurox fill the trees in a perfect symphony. Our garden is abundant, and though we have to take care of ourselves, everything here feels like a kind of paradise.

We get to work for the day. While he tills the soil and plants the seedlings for our fruit trees, I’m on the roof checking the connections to our solar panels and repairing anything that might be damaged.

“Hey, Libby, come look at this,” he calls out.

I climb down from the roof and join a shirtless Hyx at the back wall of our home. A red vine snakes up the wall, blooming in spectacular yellow and orange flowers.

A Parma Vine.

I want to reach out and touch it, but I know that would be a mistake. But still, tears well in my eyes. “I guess we’re not the only survivors from a dead species, huh?”

“I thought we could replant it somewhere out of the way,” he says, turning his back to me to don his thick gloves.

I gasp. Poking out of his shoulder blades are two shimmering gold nodules.

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