"You don't," he says, just as kindly. "You think perhaps he should have stayed in Port? What job in Port do you think he would be content with? Consider not only Victor's needs, but that of Port's residents. Where would you place him?"
With me, I want to say, but I know what Lord va'Rin is getting at. Would the people of Port view Victor as a terrifying problem, or would they accept him? I know his face is fearsome, his form terrifying. I know he started out in a constant state of fury and a few months is not enough time to determine if he can be completely safe around the others on his own. I know that the women in Port are largely scared of aliens and have abusive pasts.
I have no idea what would be best for him. I just know that I'm in love with him, and if word of that gets out, it might ruin this new job for him, a job with a garden, and trees, and the freedom to do as he pleases.
So I simply smile and thank Lord va'Rin for the job offers. "It's very thoughtful of you. I'm sure Victor will love the shore."
21
VICTOR
Bee is sending me away.
I listen to her conversation with the mesakkah lord, and I hate every word of it. She doesn't disagree with him when he says my new position will be far away from town. That I can't intermingle with the residents of Port just yet. That I'll be far enough away from her that we won't be able to see each other. Instead of saying that it isn't what she wants, that she wants to keep me, Bee laughs and smiles and discusses the office she will have in town. She is eager to help the women of Port, she confesses to him when they end the comm.
And then she sighs softly to herself.
She does not cry. She does not weep that I am going to be leaving her. Bee is silent in the other room, and I clench my fists, wishing my claws were back, because then I would be able to dig them into my skin. I could rip at the walls here in this small cottage and show my fierce anger and frustration and rage.
But Bee likes these painted walls. They make her happy. And Bee makes me happy.
So I go outside and return to working on the stone path. I have been making it better, just because I like for things to be the best. There is no point to working on it, not now when we are about to leave this place, but I need to do something with my hands.
Bee did not ask me to stay. She is ready for me to go.
And I…I will never be ready to leave her side. But if she does not want to keep me, I will not force myself upon her. I need Bee's smiles and companionship more than anything else in this world, more than her kisses on my cock or her gentle, squeezing hands. I need her laughter and her voice and her very personality. I need Bee.
I want to rip the stone path up and fling the rocks over the cliff, but seeing disappointment in Bee's eyes would hurt more than anything. So I stew on my frustration and sadness, and wonder what it will be like to have trees and a garden, but no Bee.
Things are strange between us after the discussion with Lord va'Rin. Bee busies herself with packing up the small house, chatting animatedly to me about how nice it'll be for me to have a garden without her sneezes, and the fresh vegetables I can grow. That we can re-pot my small saplings and have them transported to the new house. That I'll make new friends with the guards at the other outpost, and that it'll be nice for me to live by the shore. That the coast is lovely and temperate and she thinks I'll adore it.
Bee talks and talks, her words and smiles trying to convince me that I should love the job waiting for me.
I am silent, because I cannot agree. Perhaps a garden will be nice, but I would rather have Bee. Perhaps the shore will be nice, but I would rather have Bee. Perhaps the new job will be interesting…
But I would rather have Bee.
Everything comes back to Bee. I would clean floors and shovel mud if it meant I got to spend the rest of my days with Bee at my side.
She says nothing about our parting, though. She smiles and talks and smiles and talks. Bee does not say she will miss me. She says she is happy for me. Excited.
I am miserable. Completely and utterly miserable.
I never thought beyond being with Bee in this moment, in this house. I did not think about a future, or that we would not have one together. It feels so natural to be with her, as if we have always been together, have always been laughing together, breathing in each other's scents. It is special to me.
But it is also becoming clear that it is not special to Bee, and perhaps that is what hurts the most.
That night, Bee sets up my bed in the other room. "In case one of the others comes by early, we should make sure they don't think there's anything going on between us," she says softly. "I don't want to jeopardize anything for you."
I grunt a response.
If my lack of commentary hurts Bee's feelings, she hides it well. She fusses over my bed, squeezes my hand goodnight, and then retreats into her room and shuts the door behind her. I wait, listening. As I have learned with the others that called me “Asshole” for the first few weeks, people say many things behind doors that they will not say to your face. Most do not realize I have excellent hearing, and so I hear a lot of things I am not meant to.
All is silent in Bee's room, however.
She is not sad I am leaving. Maybe all this time, all she has valued is her job.
It seems wrong, but I cannot shake the feeling of it.
The next day, Herrix and Akris arrive and put the trunk into the back of the air-sled. I am fully dressed, my mane combed out, the high collar of a new tunic tugging at my neck, and new shoes pinching my wide feet. I hate all of it, even if Herrix and Akris tease me like friends over just how miserable I look.
"I think he looks very nice," Bee chides them in her sweet way. "Very professional."
I do not want to be professional. I want to be hers.
I tug at the collar, wishing that it were less choking or that I didn't have to wear a tunic at all. Bee has spoiled me at our small cottage, letting me wander about in nothing but trou. I feel ridiculous in this get-up, but her smile is brilliant as she gazes up at me. "Handsome," she declares. "So very handsome."
But not enough to keep, it seems.
We head in to Port, the air-sled coasting through the sky. It's a lovely day, the weather mild and full of sunshine. Bee clasps my hand as we sit in the back seat, giving it an encouraging squeeze. She says nothing, her expression distracted as Akris and Herrix chat about how many females are now in Port. Herrix has his eye on one in particular, but Akris isn't interested in a human female. He says his mother will hang him by his tail if he mates with anyone other than a good mesakkah female. Herrix just rolls his eyes at that, and the banter continues. Normally I'd find it fascinating to listen in on their thoughts, but today, I just want to talk to Bee. I want to turn this sled around and go back to our colorful cottage. I want to bury my face between her thighs and forget that Lord va'Rin ever contacted us.
The air-sled lands just outside of Port, though, and with it, my spirits plummet. "This is where we split up," Herrix announces cheerfully. "I’m taking this sled back to Lord va'Rin's. Akris will show you to your new office, Bee. Victor, you're with me. We're stopping by the port medic's office and then you're off to your new posting."