Page 91 of Border Control
She frowns. “Why would you do that?”
In answer, I gesture to my head. “The mind sync between us seems to be amplified, likely because Nevare and Arik are out of range of it.”
“Right.” She lets out a long, low breath and glances away, as if examining something only she can see. “I… I can tell you’re struggling. I can help.”
She says nothing more, waiting for me to choose, but the question bubbles up inside me, threatening to claw its way out of my throat:Why?Why does she reach out like this, so warm, so open, only to shut the doors the moment I step close? I don’t mean to think it, but my thoughts crack out across the bond before I can stop it.
Her eyes flash, sharp as betrillium.Drok na,sheheardme.
A riot of tangled thoughts swarms across the mental connection, her emotions messy, fierce, but real: ‘NO TIME FOR OTHERS BUT WANT PARTNER.’
It strikes me like a veralash: her yearning for connection is real, but so is her fear. She wants intimacy, but not dependency. To be seen, not claimed.
“It’s complicated, Dom,” she says softly.
“So I see,” I murmur. “We have time. Perhaps I will understand. And… speaking it aloud might helpyouunderstand.”
She turns her head toward me slowly, considering. Her lips press together briefly, then part again. “I’ve… never told anyone this.”
“You… could tell me.”Drok na, I’m not worthy to know these things, but I want to. I crave to understand everything Law-rah gives me, help her the way she helps me.
If only she’d let me.
She snuggles closer to me, taking my wrists and wrapping them around her shoulders. Putting me in a place of protection, making me her sanctuary. “I know I shouldn’t say this to you, Dom, but it’s hard being a woman on Earth. You have to be soft, but not too soft. Be firm, but not too harsh. Be committed, but be there for your family. Nurturing but not too gentle, and it goes on and on. It's too much, and yet you're always not enough.”
My hearts twist. The picture she paints is one of constant, circular striving. I don't know how the females on Oloria organize themselves, but perhaps they have an equally competitive system in their pursuits. I wouldn't survive if my orders were so unclear.
“I chose to put my career first,” she says, facing out into the far reaches of space. Her reflected face is determined, eyes hard as she regards herself.
Images pelt me across the link. Men, women, people with tears in their eyes or heads in their hands. People in need of help.
The people Law-rah fights for.
An image of an older man floats between us, head bowed as he's led away. Quick as the image appears, Law-rah pulls it back, locking it tight in her mental room.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine in the misty reflection of the window. They're tired, yes, but determined.
She sighs. “Yeah. Plus, I have things I want to do, and guys don't like to be second, Dom. The type A’s I go for want to take charge and be the center of my world. They say they’re okay coming after what I have to do, but finding someone who’s truly happy with that is proving difficult.” She snorts. “Plus, it's probably about control. Mine. My whole life has been about managing expectations, deflecting pressure, staying ten steps ahead of anything that might undo me.”
Her unspoken words ring between us. ‘SEX IS TOO VULNERABLE. INTIMACY IS DANGEROUS.’
I stay silent, listening with every cell.
She closes her eyes, but instead of stepping away from the mind-sync, she leans into it. Gold rises in her aura. “If I make a mistake and give myself to someone, who didn’t see all of me, who didn't realize how important my work is to me, someone who decides to leave… it would destroy me. So I set a line. Marriage. Commitment. Someone whochoosesme, all of me, including my job.”
I tighten my arms around the frail human. Law-rah's purpose was clear, and she lost it because of the interference by the mind-sync. No wonder she’s unraveling like a clone without the ability to fulfil their function.
A surge of warmth floods my chest where her body fits against mine. Taking her to Oloria, caring for her on the way there as best I can, and curing her is the right choice. “You areprecious,” I say, voice low and rough. “And you should be chosen completely. Not for what you do or what you give, but for who you are.”
Her breath catches, and her eyes flick up to meet mine.
We stay like that for a long moment, suspended in the honesty between us, neither retreating, neither advancing. Holding the fragile shape of trust beginning to form.
“I’m sorry you were drawn into the mind sync. If I could solve it, I would.”
And I will, once I’m euthanized.
She doesn't hear that.
