The Wind and the Horizon (Book 2 in the Starborn Series)

Chapter Fifty

[ CW: masturbation mention (clean), problem drinking/alcoholic tendencies ]

Sleeping in Kai's room was a confusing experience for May.

There was the familiarity, the understanding that it had once and for many years been hers. But now the pillows smelled of sawdust and sea salt - the combination of which had always reminded May of her brother - and the yeasty aroma of Kai's home-brewed beer as it wafted through the floorboard. Despite Kai's assurances, she still hadn't gotten used to it. Still, the smells coupled with things like the mountain of mens t-shirts stacked on the dresser and a second surfboard wedged next to the bed helped May subtract Em's memory from the room just enough to let her sleep.

By morning, however, May was right back where she started. Waking up with Em on her mind became May's normal. Some mornings she was rendered immobile with heartsickness, the space beside her too vast and cold to bring any comfort. Other mornings she woke up angry. On these days she'd tell herself she should have accepted Lety's offer to stay with the Murder. Perhaps something might have bloomed between the two of them, and wouldn't that have taught Em for cutting her out of the rescue mission and abandoning her?

It would only take a moment of entertaining that line of thinking - of trying to spitefully imagine letting Lety's lips press into hers - before shame and an unimaginable sense of loss chased the anger away. Yes, she was mad at Em and, no, she still didn't believe in the plan. But she loved that girl so much it hurt and too much to imagine doing anything other than wait.

Some mornings, after hyper-real dreams of Em's skin and hands and mouth, May would be awoken by a throbbing between her legs. She missed Em's body against hers; the way the Star would worship her like a goddess while leaving paths of bruising kisses up her thighs. The memory always left May aching until she slid her hand under her clothes to finish what dream Em had started.

Some day, she promised herself in the wave of bliss that followed when she finished, they would share those moments again. If she was patient, then one day she wouldn't have to wake up without her.

*

The days passed in a blur. Kai was usually gone to work with their father by the time May emerged, so she took her time deciding how to spend the long hours stretching out like miles between herself and the vague destination she was waiting to reach. It was hard for her to imagine really settling in - she had no idea if her return to Omea would be long or short-lived - so she spent her days avoiding anything that felt too permanent.

She made a point to visit Omi every day, even if it was just to share lunch with him. But as time passed her mother's gentle patience with her morphed into a concerned pressure that May didn't want to deal with.

"What's your plan, May?" Tiio asked one afternoon as they washed dishes side-by-side. "We could find you a job. Perhaps you could get certified to work with me as a midwife. You're so smart, it wouldn't take long."

"No one's going to want me delivering their babies, mama," May replied, her voice deadpan.

"Oh, stop it," her mother fussed on the edge of frustration. "People will trust you again. But you have to try. Check your attitude and remember they're just scared of what they don't understand. You'll prove them wrong."

That was as close as her mother came to laying blame, a fact May had to give her some credit for; there had been a time when the accusations would have come first and the compassion second. Still, if there was one thing May had left in the past, it was any desire to grovel for the approval of Omea's general population.

She wore this defiance like armor when she walked through town. The first time she willed herself to wander the streets alone she had been riddled with anxiety until she witnessed the first set of eyes widen in recognition at the sight of her. It was a look she wasn't used to getting from the people here; not a sneer of judgement but a gaze of awe.