Even through the suit you can notice his shoulders droop, his arms dropping to his sides in defeat, and I could swear his eyes start to glisten. But that can’t be right. Must be the harsh artificial overhead lighting playing tricks. He is the most stubborn son of a bitch I know.
“Defeatism doesn’t suit you.”
“You wanted grand gestures.” His hand glides through the space between us, gesturing over himself before dropping by his side again. “Here I am.”
“Grand gestures?” I fight to keep the rising hysteria out of my voice. “Maybe three years ago. It’s too late. I don’t want th–”
“Let's keep comms clear. We can save the personal chit-chat for later,”Clayton barks out – a fantastic reminder that everyone on board can hear a one-sided play-by-play of Müller airing our dirty laundry.
Heat rises in my cheeks, embarrassment mingling with the anger that finally rises inside me, but he looks unphased and as effortlessly handsome as he always did. My stomach flips at the sight of him, and I find myself torn between throttling him and embracing him. That sends the zombie butterflies into another frenzy low in my stomach.
“I didn’t mean this. I don’t… Argh.” I bite my tongue, not wanting to unleash a torrent of harsh words upon him.
Müller knocks off his comms –too little, too late– before reaching up to open the visor on his suit.
“Alex, you must have expected this. You can’t just send divorce papers out of the blue.”
I glare at him.Is he bloody insane?
“Who pops up on the first shuttle to argue it out with their ex about bloody divorce papers?”Fucking Matthias Müller. That’s who.I scoff. “And it was hardly out of the blue.”
“Alex, we need to discuss…”
I hold a hand up between us.
“This isn’t happening.”
“Mein Herz…”
“Iwantedspace!Why do you think I’m out here? You’re a physicist, figure it out!”
“Theoreticalphysicist,” he corrects.
“Exactly! Weave your little theories in your head back down on Earth and leave me alone.”
I want to hit him. I want to shove him back into the shuttle and pretend he isn’t here.
Instead, I clench my fist and push past him, our shoulders colliding as I grab the first of the supplies to be unloaded from the Soyuz and start steering it toward the Leonardo module to dump with the rest of thestation’s supplies. My fingers grip at the thick seat belt-like straps, tightening until I’m white-knuckled.
As I pass by the entrance to the mess area, both Anderson and Aiko shoot me a look of concern. I never was one for successfully hiding my emotions. My face is an open book. I ignore them and the increasing throb in my shoulder.
I cannot believe the gall of him, the audacity, upending my peaceful existence. I left the house, the country, and the damn planet. Is it too much to ask for space?
Literalspace.
“Whoa, Kiddo.” I'm steadied by two large hands.
I’m so inside my own head that I bump clean into Clayton before I even notice his presence.
“Kid?” He takes the crate from me, pushing it down to Matherson waiting below.
She lines up the supplies along the walls, velcroing down supply bags and strapping down anything larger.
“I’m good,” I reply numbly, my eyes slowly refocusing on him.
His flight suit is even more worse for wear than mine, with the broken zipper only half pulled up and his vest peering through. Guess we’ve both been up here too long.
“I could really do with some fresh air.”If only I could open a window.
