Page 32 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

“Humans are weird,” he muttered under his breath, stomping around the room in circles. “Anything else? Please. There must be something more...reasonable.”

“You complete me.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

His head hurt, trying to decipher the meaning of this one. It made no sense whatsoever. Something must be lost in translation here.

Frustration filled him with irritation as the AI kept firing quotes at him, all of them weird and useless.

“You are my best friend, my lover, my everything,” sounded from the drone, and Kear paused.

Did this one sound promising?

The overall quote was stupid, just like the rest of them. No one was anyone’s “everything.” People didn’t live, eat, and breathe each other. But one word didn’t offend his common sense as much as the rest.

Friend.

It didn’t sound false when he thought about Maya and her situation. She had been with that man for ten years. That was a long time to spend with anyone. At some point, on some level, she and her asshole boyfriend must’ve been friends.

More importantly, that was the word Kear could relate to as well. He could think of Maya as his friend when writing to her.

In the three days since their trip to the mall, he hadn’t found the time to take her out again, but they had been meeting every day for lunch in the rooftop café. He’d learned more about her life back on Earth and told her more than just bullet notes about his own life.

Maya had become the closest person he currently had to a friend. He had his family, his colleagues, but he couldn’t think of any one person he’d be talking to regularly on a daily basis other than her.

“Start a new letter,” he commanded the drone. “Dear Maya...”

She would prefer a nickname here. But he couldn’t come up with any, and he refused to use that silly Pooh Bear moniker, especially, since he got a feeling Maya didn’t particularly like that one herself.

Her name would have to do for now.

“Dear Maya. It was a pleasure to hear from you... No. Wait.” He rubbed his forehead. This was going to be hard, even if he had any usable love quotes. “Let me think.”

A friend. He was writing to a friend who was hurt and needed his support.

“Let’s try this ‘Dear Maya, I’m very sorry...’”

It was late into the night when the letter was finally finished. He felt more tired than after a complex labor and delivery of a patient.

“All right,” he said to the drone, feeling winded, as if after an intense physical workout. His brain hurt. The stomping of his hooves around the room echoed in his ears. But there was an unexpected lightness in his chest. Like he’d done something worthwhile. “Let me hear it.”

The drone read out loud.

“Dear Maya,

I’m so, so sorry about that stupid letter I sent you. I think I missed you especially hard that night, feeling particularly lonely, so it all came out wrong and in a most hurtful way. I should’ve slept on it instead of sending it right away. Things certainly look better now, after I’ve given it some thought.

You’re still not here, and I still miss you, but I cherish the connection we have and don’t wish to sever it. You have been my friend for so long. I need you in my life.

Whatever happens, I’m here for you. Yes, please, let’s talk. Write to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, both physically and emotionally. I want to know everything. Obviously, I have no idea what it’s like to be pregnant or what it’s like to be alone on an alien planet so far away from home. But I realize it couldn’t be easy.

Please remember that I’m here for you, despite the distance. No matter what, you have me to talk about anything that bothers you, and I’ll do everything to make it better. Because more than anything in the world, I wish for you to be happy.”

Was it good? He didn’t have the same confidence he’d felt after writing that first “dry, short” letter. But that might be a good thing, since Maya didn’t really like that one.

Writing this one left him feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Maybe because this letter was more personal? He might’ve used something else than just his brain to come up with this one. The words seemed to have come from deep inside his chest somewhere. And now, he felt oddly vulnerable and unsure.

But did it sound like a love letter?

---