Page 76 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

Chapter 25

Maya

Holding my tablet in both hands, I stared at Kear’s letter. It came from his account and was written in Voranian. To understand it, I had to have my room’s AI read it out loud for my translator to convert it to English.

Though, I believed I shouldn’t do it.

Logic told me it’d be easier to make a nice clean cut in our relationship, whatever that had been. I’d started by moving out of his clinic where nearly every wall and every door bore a sign with his name. I didn’t even need to have it read to me. I’d learned to recognize his name in writing.

To complete the “nice clean cut” I should leave the planet. The study was finished two weeks ago. My contract was done. The payment had long been transferred to me. Yet here I was, lingering on Neron for no apparent reason.

I told myself I had to see more of Voran before leaving it for good. In the past week, I'd gone to a few museums, visited the zoo, met several human women married to Voranian men to chat about their life here on the new planet. I’d even taken a day trip to the countryside, to get the full experience. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to confirm a seat on the next spaceship leaving for Earth.

Something held me back.

Well, maybe reading this letter would release me from whatever it was.

I drew in a full chest of air, then exhaled it with one word, “Read.”

“Maya, my dearest beautiful flower,” the AI droned, but in my mind, Kear’s deep, rambling voice took over. “I hope with all my heart that you will read this letter because this is the best way I can explain myself to you. And I do need to explain everything that happened. I have to try to make you understand.

I love you...”

“Wait,” I choked out, stopping the AI. “What?”

“I love you,” the robotic voice repeated dutifully.

“He couldn’t... He...just...” My head was spinning, refusing to produce a single cohesive thought.

“Do you wish to proceed?” the AI inquired.

“Yes.” I nodded, holding my breath. “Please.”

People didn’t lie to those they loved. And if they did, it wasn't true love. It was manipulation. His confession meant nothing. It couldn’t change anything.

“I’m sorry, Maya. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” Kear’s words continued to fill the room. “I was stupid, clueless, and naïve when I took over your correspondence with Walter. I didn’t even realize that by doing it, I’d be playing with feelings I knew nothing about.

But my intentions weren’t evil. I didn’t set out to deceive or destroy you. I merely believed I’d be helping you...”

Helping?

An incredulous laugh scraped inside my throat.

Could a grown man really be that clueless?

He did it out of concern for his study. Everything Kear had ever done was motivated by that. If he didn’t see it, then he was lying to himself, too.

“I admit, my initial motivation to keep you safe and happy came from the concern for my work and the final result of the study. I also had no idea how to communicate with a woman outside of a strictly professional relationship. So, I did try to steal some words and to research how to write romantic letters...”

Of course he did. Where else would all those beautiful words come from? Deep inside I always knew they were too good, even for Walter, who’d been with me for a decade and knew me better than Kear did. No way Kear could’ve composed letters like that on his own. He’d never dated before. Never cared for anyone. He couldn’t possibly love me. Those words must be stolen too.

“But that particular research failed me. You see, Maya, the only way a love letter can sound real is if every word of it is felt. It has to come from a living, beating heart of a person capable of feeling, even if those feelings hurt.

So no, I didn’t steal or borrow the words I wrote to you. They were all mine and only mine. I used Walter’s account, but after a couple of tries, I couldn’t even bring myself to put his name on the letters I wrote to you. It was a candid conversation between you and me, and no one else.

I love you, Maya.

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