Page 55 of An Alien for Her Heart

She reaches for the door and I engage the brakes before hopping out of the vehicle. I’m at her door when she looks upat me through the transparent cab, her lips stretching into that strange smile again once I open the door for her.

“Thanks.” She makes a sound in her throat before her gaze shifts to her lodge. “I guess I’ll see you.”

Something within me dies. This is goodbye, isn’t it?

“I still have some more work to do. Your field is infested. I need to treat it.”

Catherine’s gaze meets mine, something passing behind her eyes before she looks away.

“Hmm,” she hums. “Maybe another day? I’m a little tired from the um…” She makes that sound in her throat again. “From the festival. You must be tired too.” She meets my gaze again. “You should get some rest.”

This is it. A goodbye of sorts. But I can’t push it. She needs space even though everything within me is telling me to do the opposite.

It takes all my effort to jerk my chin in acceptance before shutting the door behind her. Leaning on the hover truck, I watch as she heads toward her lodge, my gaze not leaving her until she opens the door and steps inside.

I remain there for a few moments, just watching the lodge, wanting nothing more than to rush after her. But as I grip my chest, the ever-present silence there reminds me that giving her space is the right thing to do. Pushing her now could drive her further away.

Reluctantly, I turn away and head back into my transport.

Claw still gripping my chest, I tell myself this isn’t the end of things.

Even if it feels like it is.

17

CATHERINE

The next few days pass by torturously slowly.

The day after our night of passion, Varek doesn’t return. My heart drops.

What did I expect? I knew it was only a one-night thing. I agreed to that. I’d been fine with that.

Angrily, I scrub at a spot on the wooden flooring that doesn’t seem to want to get rid of the stain I’m working on. A frown so severe on my brow it gives me extra lines.

“Really stupid, Catherine,” I scold myself. A grown woman shouldn’t be affected by something like this. Varek’s absence is for the best. At least, I tell myself it’s for the best, that we both need time to process, to reflect on what transpired between us. But the ache of his absence is a constant companion, a dull throb that underlies my every thought, my every action.

“Damnit.” I brace on a chair and stand, frowning at the bucket of water and the sponge I was using. Reaching for them, I stomp toward the bathroom, but not before catching sight of the little device Varek had given me as a present.

The little vibrating thing sits unused on the table right beside the crate of equally untouched fruits. A tremor in my core makesa lump rise in my throat before I force my gaze away from the thing and march to the bathroom to empty the bucket.

What is wrong with me?

I’m no virgin but that night…I felt like one.

And now, with him gone, it’s like a part of me has been ripped away. I can’t focus on anything, can’t find solace in the routines that used to comfort me.

I dump the water down the drain and lean against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are tired, ringed with dark circles from sleepless nights. My lips press into a thin line as I glare at myself.

“Get it together, Catherine. You’re stronger than this.”

But the pep talk does little to ease the ache in my chest. I push away from the sink and head back to the main room, determined to find something, anything, to distract myself.

The hours drag on, each one feeling like an eternity. I try to lose myself in work, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Varek. His touch, his voice, the way he made me feel like I was the only person in the universe. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve pushed him away, that I’ve made a terrible mistake.

But I haven’t!

You don’t fall in love at sixty. You get on with the life that God’s given you and thank him you’re still alive and healthy. I’ve lived a good life. Taken care of myself so I don’t have to visit the doctor every week. The children I have are grown and are hopefully living happy lives back on Earth without me. All in all, my life has been good.

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