Matched

Chloe & Tor

Chloe sat slumped at the table, looking down into her lap. She could feel Tor watching her like a prickling against the side of her face. She could feel his guilt, his regret—and it made her feel all the sicker.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I know how desperately you wanted to see them.'

And he did. The bond made sure of it. She wondered how it had felt to him: the anticipation, the excitement. It was strange to feel things without the thought processes to back them up. She was only just beginning to comprehend. Sometimes it was hard to determine what was emotion and what was physical sickness.

Tor's guilt made her feel sick.

'It's not your fault,' she told him.

How could he have predicted the strength of their bond? It was the best choice, she told herself. The only choice. There was no way she could have met her father with Tor in tow. It was too dangerous. Her father might have tried to kill him: a man; a man with alien yellow eyes. The letter she'd left behind would just have to do.

It wasn't long since their return to the mothership. Was it morning back home yet? Had her father already noticed it on the kitchen table? She'd used some paper and pen from the house. It was odd to think that Zibons never used them. They couldn't even write. For a breathless moment, the thought devastated her. They were so different. And now her father, her anchor in life, was gone.

'What are you feeling?' spoke Tor with a grunt. 'I don't like it.'

'I'm sorry.' She felt a rush of heartache, then guilt—she didn't want to hurt him—which merely compounded his suffering. 'Oh, this is silly.'

She went over to him, climbing into his lap, straddling him as they embraced. Chloe leaned her chin on Tor's head as she cradled him against her breasts.

He sighed. 'I like it here. I think it's my new favourite place.'

Chloe laughed. 'I'm all right,' she told him, squeezing his shoulders. 'I'll get over it. You're worth it.'

'We still could have gone ...'

'No. It's done and over with. I made the right choice. It's the past. He knows my handwriting.'

'What exactly did you tell him?'

'Not much. Just that I was happy and safe and in a wonderful place but that I had to leave. I told him nothing of you. It would probably make things worse.'

Taking one of his hands, she threaded their fingers together. Her hand was so small against his it was ridiculous.

'I wonder how the other women went,' Chloe said, thinking of Myeong, Alexis and Rachel. She felt a spike of anger that wasn't hers. It seemed to come out of the blue. 'What's wrong?'

'Oh, nothing. Just something Silo said. And Roco.'

'What?'

'It's nothing. It's just ... I don't like your men, that's all. They anger me.' He was looking away through the window towards Rictor 5, his jaw ticking. 'I'm glad we're taking more of you. I hope we take all of you.'

'They're not all bad,' Chloe said.

'Your father wasn't all that good.'

'He was good,' Chloe said quickly. 'He was just ... trapped by old thinking. By his own fears and his own desire to feel safe in a complicated world.'

'A wise thing to say.'

'Is it? Or am I just making excuses for him?' She paused. 'I'm not perfect. Rictorian women aren't that great either. We do terrible things too.'