“I feel like I should have known,” Khiva murmured in a soft tone that killed her.

“Khiva,” Eve whispered, pressing her lips to his jaw, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, anything at all that might bring him comfort.

“Just as you did when your father died,” Khiva continued. “You said you felt that he was gone.”

“You’ve held onto hope for a long time,” Eve said. “That took more strength than simply giving in.”

It broke her heart. It broke her heart to see him this way, but this was something that had to be felt. Khiva would feel his grief and it would help him heal. She would help him heal.

Although, she knew that one never truly healed after losing a loved one.

“Khiva, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his in a watery kiss. He returned the kiss for a brief moment, tasting her tears.

Then he pulled away, using one hand to rub over his face, closing his eyes.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Eve whispered.

Khiva pulled his hand away and it dropped onto her waist, before his fingers smoothed over her naked hip.

“Dhrika said they survived escaping Kerivu,” Khiva began, his voice careful and soft. “That is something to be thankful for, at least.”

“It is,” Eve agreed. And while he’d refused to speak of that day, she couldn’t imagine the horror of escaping a planet in the midst of destruction.

“They were picked up, along with other escaping Keriv’i, and transported to a neutral colony called Hertari. They stayed for one year. While Hertari was a relatively peaceful colony, Dhrika said that tensions were rising, that Keriv’i were being attacked by the citizens for taking jobs, housing, resources. My brother thought it best that they leave before it became dangerous.

That was how they came across Dhrika. Like I told you before, I had always suspected that Dhrika was my mother’s lover and he had been searching for her, though with actual success. He helped them gain visas, like he did, to the Opina colony, where Dhrika had been residing, where he still resides. He secured work for my brother on an export vessel and provided a comfortable life for my mother. For that, I will always be in Dhrika’s debt.”

“So, they were safe,” Eve said softly, feeling slight relief.

Khiva said, “That is what helps make this easier. This knowledge. That for a time, they were safe and trying to rebuild their lives.”

Eve was almost afraid to ask but she did, “Then what happened?”

Khiva brushed his rough knuckles across her cheek. “They had been on Opina for four years. Dhrika told me that my mother had been trying to search for me, that she had been tireless about it. My brother was bringing credits in from the export vessel, but he was gone off colony often because of it. Dhrika said they used those credits to pay scouts to look for me, for information.”

“You had been searching for each other,” Eve commented, a sad smile crossing her features. “Sinking all your credits into it.”

“Pax,” Khiva said. “Then there was accident on the export vessel my brother worked on. A collision in a docking port. My brother survived, barely, but then later died of internal injuries. The colony they’d been on didn’t have proper healers. The ones they did have were unfamiliar with Keriv’i anatomy. They didn’t know he had two hearts. When one failed, the other shortly followed.”

“Khiva,” Eve breathed, swallowing the lump in her throat.

His voice was ragged as he said, “My mother…Dhrika said she was never the same after that, once they transported his body back to Opina, once she knew for certain. In her mind, she’d lost two sons, not just one, and even Dhrika could not help the state of mind she fell into.”

So much tragedy, Eve thought, her eyes filling with tears again. Too much.

“She hardly ate, her body grew weak,” Khiva said, though his words sounded harsh with the grief. “She died a few moon cycles after my brother. They are both buried on Opina.”

Khiva’s fingers trailed over the tears that leaked from her eyes and her chest twisted with the expression she saw on his face.

“They have been gone from this universe for seven years now and yet I still searched,” Khiva said.

Eve didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him. This was pure loss, pure heartbreak, and the only thing she could do was hold him.

It seemed like such a lacking thing, but it was the only thing she could think to do.

Eve brushed her lips over his forehead, his temples, his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Khiva,” she whispered slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

He went quiet, for a long time, and Eve felt the thumping of his heart against her breast and she pressed her hand to his other heart, to feel that one too, to reassure herself that it hadn’t stopped from grief and sadness.

“What can I do?” she whispered.

“There is nothing to be done, leeldra,” Khiva whispered back. “I have my answers. Now, I must accept it.”

Eve bit her lip, before suggesting quietly, “We should go to Opina, Khiva. To meet with Dhrika, to visit their graves.”

“Veki.”

She swallowed. “I think it will help.”

“Leeldra…”

Softly, she confessed, “One of the hardest parts about dealing with my father’s death was not being able to lay him to rest. I had no body, no burial. My grief always felt…unfinished. Khiva, I really think it will help you come to terms with this, to see where Dhrika buried them, to say your goodbyes. We do not have to do it now, but I think you should consider it. Even if you prefer to go alone.”

Perhaps Eve pushed too much with her words, but she thought they needed to be said. Khiva didn’t respond, not for a long while.

When he did, he said, “We will go. Together. But not until our child is born.”

Eve stilled, her heart skipping a beat, knowing her pregnancy was still a sensitive subject.

His eyes held hers as he said, “We will all go. My mother would have loved to meet my female and our offspring.”

Eve’s vision blurred again. The pads of Khiva’s fingertips wiped them away.

“No more tears, leeldra,” he murmured.

“I should be the one comforting you.”

“Veki, we comfort each other,” he said. “Always.”

Eve pressed closer to him and Khiva grabbed their blankets from the base of the bed and dragged them over the both of them. And Eve pressed her ear to his chest, knowing that this wound would take time to heal.

But she knew that she would help him through it.

“Death brings life,” he whispered.

Eve’s eyes flashed up to his, but she found that his eyelids were closed, his breath already evening out.

Slowly, she smoothed a hand down his chest. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

He needed sleep. Grief was draining, but she wondered if he’d gotten any sleep since he’d been away.

She listened to his even breaths, as he fell deeper into unconsciousness. His tense muscles relaxed around her.

Eve pressed a kiss to his chest and then closed her eyes to join him, wondering what the morning would bring.