Page 34 of Claimed by the Alien Warrior Triad

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Aubrey

Twelve years later

“You’ve made such excellent progress, Aubrey. Despite a traumatic experience that caused a fugue state and audio-visual hallucinations, you’ve managed to recover admirably. Most victims of that level of delusion are unable to succeed professionally like you have.”

“Thank you, Dr. Rosewood,” I reply, my voice flat and dull.

I’ve accepted that it was all a lie. But I dream of them every night.

Even twelve years later, I dream every night that I’m back in that cavern. Every night I feel the touch of their hands, the softness of their lips, the hardness of their bodies pressing against mine. I imagine them in such vivid detail that it’s so much more real than my own dull, grey life.

I still see them in my mind’s eye, fighting and killing on that paradise planet – so filled with danger.

Dr. Rosewood is my therapist. In her late-fifties, she has an impeccable sense of style and an affinity towards purple. Her violet nail polish reflects the warm light of her office.

“We’ve spoken about your trust issues. We’ve made some great progress together. You suffered a trauma when you confronted your fiancé’s infidelity. You’ve grieved. You’ve grown accustomed to the new reality. You’ve spent more time being single now than you were ever in a relationship with Joshua… So, have you considered sharing the beautiful life you’ve built with someone?”

I force a smile. “Not yet. There’s so much work, you know?”

She nods, smiling with real warmth. I know Dr. Rosewood wants only the best for me. “There’salwaysgoing to be work. You’re a beautiful soul, Aubrey. Why, you don’t look a day older than our first session.”

She’s right.

I haven’t changed since that fateful day, when I had a nervous breakdown and entered a fugue state. It reallyisstrange. There’s not a single new wrinkle, a grey hair, nothing – despite the fact that I’m now forty-four. I’ve watched Dr. Rosewood age gracefully over the last twelve years, but I haven’t changed at all. When I look in the mirror, I see the person who woke up and was betrayed over a decade earlier.

“Maybe you’re right,” I say blandly. Dr. Rosewood latches onto my response, which is more positive than any I’ve given before.

“Not all men are unfaithful,” she promises me.

Haleon, Brigg and Stryker would never be unfaithful.

I try not to think of them, but it’s impossible.

Remember my plan? It feels so far away now.

Partner at the law firm by thirty-two. Married by thirty-three. Two kids by thirty-six.

I feel a wave of nostalgia for a time in my life where such things made sense. I invested fully into my career, losing myself in my work, and I made senior partner sooner than even I could have hoped for. I was soon running point on accounts worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

Then I branched out with John Gold, another talented lawyer, and we started our own firm: Wells, Gold and partners. We poached Marissa, who’s now gone from a secretary to a vibrant young lawyer – eagle-eyed, and able to spot any inconsistency in a witness’ story.

On paper, I’m making it. I’ve got a penthouse in Manhattan and summer home in the Hamptons. The beach house is beautiful – with waterfront views to die for and rentals on either side that welcome Hollywood celebrities every summer.

But the beach houseshouldbe filled with children laughing, and playing. Instead, it feels empty; as lonely as my penthouse when I take my two weeks of vacation to destress by the ocean.

Professionally, the choices I’ve had have advantages – especially for the people who work for me. I’m the one who’s always on call on Christmas and at Easter. But the price of that is being the one who doesn’t have a family to spend those holidays with, even at the venerable age of forty-four. Everyone told me I’d start to feel differently about that as I aged – I’d feel the pull to ‘set down roots’ – but that never happened for me. I’ve felt the same for all these years; never once able to forget that day and night on another world...

…even if it never really happened at all.

“You’re right,” I tell Dr. Rosewood. “Maybe itistime to put myself out there.” Yet I cringe at the thought. I haven’t been with a man in twelve years. I could have, sure. I got set up by coworkers and friends all the time. I even went on a couple of blind dates; but I felt nothing towards the men I was set up with; as handsome and successful as they were.

No matter how handsome and successful any human man is, it’s impossible to measure up againstthreetowering, Greek God, Aurelian warriors.

It’s wasn’t just the tattoos, the pale marble skin, or the bright green veins. It was their brutal strength. The viciousness when they lost control. The power they emanated – that could keep you safe from anything. I know I could have felt safe in awar zonewith those three by my side.

Delusions! Remember – let the thoughts flow through you, but don’t engage them. Then go about your business.

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