Bridget's Bane: A SciFi Alien Romance Page 18

  She looks at us expectantly, and I shrug again. I turn to look at B'shit, who gives us a wobbly, somewhat frightened smile in return. I do not like this. She looks…very upset. And guilty.

  "A'tam?" S'teph cocks her head. "Shall we start with you? Do you have questions for Bridget? Maybe we could start with the most pressing issues and go out from there if we need to."

  "I wish to know why she is so upset," I say, frowning in the direction of my wan mate. "I do not like this. I did not agree to make her unhappy. I agreed to talk.” I hold my hand out to B'shit. "If you want to stop this right now, we will. I do not like that you are sad."

  She takes my hand and squeezes it, offering me another wobbly smile. "It's all right. It's stuff we need to talk about. It's just hard for me."

  "Why is it hard?" S'teph prompts. "Perhaps that can be your first question."

  B'shit thinks for a moment. "I just—"

  "Hold onto the stick," S'teph suggests gently. "Let the visual remind you that this is a safe moment, okay? A'tam knows that as long as you hold that stick, these things we talk about are sacred. They won't leave this room."

  B'shit stares down at the stick in her lap. She lets go of my hand and picks it up, her expression thoughtful. After a moment, she takes a deep breath and then speaks. "I think…I think I have a hard time being vulnerable because of my mother."

  "What about your mother?" S'teph asks.

  B'shit clutches the stick so tight that her knuckles whiten. "My mother didn't want a child. Or rather, she only wanted one as a bargaining chip to force my father to marry her. When he didn't, I was an annoying inconvenience. A brat. She wasn't kind to me. She wasn't loving like most mothers. She told me all the time how useless I was, how pathetic. And every chance she got, she'd send me away. My father sent her child support, of course, so she'd use that money to send me away to boarding school, to one summer camp after another, to random church retreats, to anything or anyone that would take me. The longer, the better."

  I do not understand a lot of what she says, but there is pain in her expression. I have always spoken warmly of my mother—my memories of her are good ones—but now that I think about it, B'shit has never mentioned hers in a positive way. "She sent you away?" I ask. "Because she did not wish to be with you?" I remember that O'jek's mother had a child that was sent to the outcast clan. I remember how bitter and angry she would get when one of the outcasts was encountered in the jungle. How her face would become as stone, and she would retreat, not speaking for days on end.

  For the first time, I imagine what that must have been like for O'jek. I also wonder what it was like for that outcast child.

  B'shit swallows hard, pain on her face. "In a way, I wanted to be at those boarding schools and retreats. Going home was worse. My mother would take every report from my teachers and counselors and go over them with a fine-toothed comb. Everything I was bad at—and I was bad at a lot—she'd use to mock me or attack me. She always told me how stupid I was, and how clumsy. If I mentioned I was sad because one of my friends moved away, she'd fling it in my face constantly and tell everyone how I had no friends, and then she'd make me regret telling her anything. It got to the point that I never told my mother—or anyone—anything that could be used against me." She shrugs, staring down at the stick. "I still have a hard time opening up, even here. Even though I know my mother isn't here to try and turn everyone against me. I still…I can't…" She trails off, then sniffs hard. "So…yeah, I'm not good with sharing." She laughs, the sound bitter and full of tears. "If I'm not perfect, you'll throw it in my face and make my life miserable."

  "No we would not," I say automatically. "That is not—"

  S'teph raises a hand, cutting me off. "This isn't about whether something is right or wrong, A'tam. This is about confessing our own truths. This is how Bridget perceives things. She holds back information because she's afraid of being vulnerable. I'm sure it was hard for her to share this with you as it is. Let's not contradict her, all right?"

  Madness. I want to tell S'teph that she is full of foolishness, but I look over at my mate, instead. B'shit's shoulders are slumped, as if she is full of tears just waiting to break free. I hate that. I do not want to see my mate so unhappy. I want her full of life and smiles. "Very well."

  "Do you want to ask something, Bridget?" S'teph looks over at her.

  B'shit thinks for a moment and then looks over at me. "Did you decide that you wanted me because I slept with you? Or did you want me before that? As your mate?" She holds out the stick, not looking me in the eye.

  I take the stick from her, and the answer is easy. It does not require much thinking on my part. "The moment I landed on this shore, I saw very many attractive females. They smiled and they laughed, and this beach felt very welcoming. There was one female that had bright eyes and a wide smile, and she liked to tease me as much as she liked to smile at me. This, I thought, was the finest female, and because I like the best things, I wished her for myself. So yes, I have always wanted you."

  "What about Daisy? She's the prettiest on the beach." And she taps the secrets stick in my hands. "Tell the truth. You wanted her?"

  This is another easy truth. "D'see was interesting because she was new, but I did not want her in my furs. D'see is attractive, but she is not as fine to look at as my mate." I shrug. "I hope she resonates to one of my clan brothers, but for myself, I have always only seen one female."

  B'shit looks up at me with such emotion in her eyes that it makes my heart hurt. Her lower lip trembles. "You promise she was only in your hut to bother me?"

  I nod. "Even if she offered to share furs with me as a pleasure mate, I would not have been interested. My heart has always belonged to you and only you, even when we fight."

  Her smile becomes a little braver, a little more like the B'shit I know. I did not realize D'see's games were weighing so heavily on B'shit, and I want to kick myself for causing her these hurts. Truly, I am rock-headed sometimes.

  "This is great," S'teph says. She takes a sip of her tea and gestures. "A'tam, you have the stick. Is there anything you want to ask Bridget as we continue to open up?"

  Thinking of our fights has brought up the biggest question in my mind, the one I can never seem to find an answer for. I nod, and hold the stick out for B'shit to take. "I wish to know why she does not want to mate with me."

  S'teph coughs on her tea, then pounds on her own chest. "Sorry," she wheezes. "Wrong pipe."

  B'shit looks like a trapped animal. She takes the stick as if she is afraid it will bite her and gives us both a wary look.

  "Safe space," S'teph chokes out. "Remember."

  B'shit swallows hard and stares down at the secrets stick. She clutches it tight, and takes a deep breath. Then she opens her eyes and looks at me. "I don't want to have sex with you because I didn't like it. At all."

  28

  BRIDGET

  A'tam looks at me with so much incredulity that I almost want to laugh.

  Almost.

  An uncomfortable silence falls in the hut. Steph is totally silent, her expression placid and unassuming.

  "What do you mean, you did not like it?" he asks.

  "I mean…it wasn't…good."

  "Which parts?"

  "All the parts with your dick going into my body. The size, the way you used it," I gesture at him and shrug. "It was…unpleasant."

  He recoils as if I've slapped him. "You lie."

  I clench my jaw, determined not to cry. Haven't we been through this before? I say I don't want sex, he acts like I'm the crazy one, and then we go round and round with arguments. "Whatever."

  Steph clears her throat. "Let me just step in and remind you both that when someone is holding the secrets stick, they are telling their private thoughts and how they feel. There are no truths or lies. Bridget is trying to tell you her perception of things, A'tam. It takes a lot of bravery to be vulnerable and open up, and I think Bridget is doing very well. Let's not shoot down what she says, a
ll right? Let's listen with an open mind."

  Man, she really does sound like a psychologist. Steph's demeanor is different today. Normally she's cheery and low-key, but this morning, she seems very serious and determined, and oddly gentle. Like she's focused on nothing more than steering us through our personal shitstorm. It makes me feel better about the situation, because let's be honest, A'tam is just making me feel worse. So, so much worse.

  A'tam scowls at both of us. "My mind is very open. I just do not understand." He turns to me. "You like my kisses!"

  "I do," I admit. "I've always liked your kisses. It's just…sometimes a girl needs more than few kisses before you shove your dick in. You just went to town on me and never asked if I was enjoying myself."

  "You did not speak up!"

  "I didn't, and that's on me. But maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if your dick wasn't so…so…" I gesture at all of him. "Big."

  He tilts his head, astonished. "Big?"

  "Gargantuan," I admit in a small voice. "Far too big for my body. And between those two things, I just thought I would call things off between us. That we weren't compatible in the furs. But we seem to keep coming back together, and now with resonance…" I trail off, gesturing at the two of us. "Here we are."

  I never thought I'd be so miserable and conflicted over resonance.

  "You think my cock is too big," he echoes, a frown on his face. "This is not possible."

  I want to throw my hands in the air and give up. "This is why I haven't talked to you, A'tam. You never think you're the problem. Maybe I just didn't like sex with you?"

  "But if my cock was not as big as it is, it would have been better?" he presses.

  I look over at Steph for help, but she's silent, letting us hash things out. "I don't know! Maybe? Or maybe I’m just too small. Does it matter? The sex was bad—really bad—and I didn't want to do it again. I like everything about you, A'tam…but the sex. That's why I've struggled with things. I want you in all ways except one." And I gesture at his groin with the stick. "Unfortunately it's the one thing you seem to think with."

  "Why did you never say anything to me?"

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I should be glad that A'tam's not mad, or hurt. He just clearly doesn't believe me. That he can't be the problem in bed. It's never him, because he's perfect in his own eyes.

  It's so damn maddening. "I have a hard time talking about things that make me feel like 'less.'"

  "Because of your mother," Steph prompts.

  I nod.

  "I am not your mother," A'tam says.

  "I know that. I just…don't trust people. Not that it matters—you don't listen to me."

  "Of course I listen to you," he counters.

  "I just told you that you weren't good at sex and you said I was wrong—"

  "Because you are wrong," he agrees. "I am sure I am quite good. You said my enormous cock was the problem."

  "No, I said there were two problems. Your enormous cock and the fact that you don't know how to use it!"

  He shakes his head, all confidence. "That is not it."

  I feel like screaming. "You don't listen!"

  "Of course I listen, B'shit—"

  I make a frustrated sound in my throat and I want to beat him with this stupid secrets stick. I shake it at his face. "There! Right there! There's another sign that you don't listen! My name is fucking BRIDGET! Not Bree-shit, not B'shit, Bridget. I have told you this a thousand times and you've ignored me a thousand times."

  A'tam looks over at Steph, defensive. When she gives a mild shrug, he frowns. It's clear he was looking for a backup to take his side. He turns back to me. "I do not understand. Everyone calls you B'shit—"

  "And I hate it." There's so much frustration in my voice. "I hate all of it, but it's worst when you do it."

  His brow furrows. "I am trying to show you respect with how I pronounce your name."

  "It's not respect in my language," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's a turd."

  I feel a little gratified when A'tam gets an astonished look on his face. He glances over at Steph again. "Is this true?"

  She gives a tiny nod. "It's an insulting word that references, uh, dung."

  A'tam thinks for a moment. "Then I will call you my little kaari."

  I'm almost swayed by that. Almost. "Because you can't be bothered to learn my real name?"

  He lifts his chin, his expression growing angry. "You accuse me again. I can learn your name."

  "Then spit it out!" I gesture at him, waiting. "Go on."

  A'tam scowls. "Bruh-shit."

  "Bridget."

  "That is what I said."

  I fling my hands up. "I give up."

  "B'shit, you—"

  "Guys, guys," Steph breaks in before we snap at each other again. She puts her hands in the air, motioning for us to stop. "Let's take a breather for now, all right? You're both worked up, and there's a lot being said. It's not productive if we just yell at each other. Why don't we take a break and let's think about what we've confessed today, all right?" She turns to me. "Bridget, A'tam indicated he was upset with your inability to share how you feel. Let's think about that one for the rest of the day, all right?"

  "Fine," I mutter.

  She turns to A'tam. "A'tam. Bridget has indicated that she doesn't share because she feels like you don't listen."

  "I listen! She said I was bad with my cock!" He gives me a wounded look.

  Steph shakes her head. "No, A'tam. That's what you're hearing. What she's saying is that she doesn't trust you enough to tell you when she's uncomfortable, because she worries it will fall on deaf ears." He opens his mouth to speak, but she hurries over him. "Remember, this isn't about declaring someone right or someone wrong. This is about learning how the other person feels. This is how Bridget feels when she's with you. Now, you both have something to think about for the day, okay? I want you both to leave all the anger here, in this session. When we're done, take some time apart this afternoon. Really think about what the other person is telling you and how you can acknowledge how they feel, all right?" She turns to me again. "Bridget, I need you to think about how A'tam feels when you don't talk to him. How that's going to affect everything you do—including the sex." She turns back to my mate. "A'tam, I need you to think about how it makes Bridget feel when she thinks you don't acknowledge what she says. Okay?"

  "Fine," I say again.

  A'tam looks over at me. "Fine."

  "Okay. You both take the afternoon to think and let's meet again in the morning, all right? Just remember that this is going to be an ongoing process. Nothing is solved overnight. We need to learn how to communicate with each other in ways that satisfy our partner’s needs without giving up our own."

  "We?" A'tam echoes. "Why do you include yourself?"

  I press my lips together to avoid a frustrated giggle. "Universal 'we,'" I explain. When he still looks confused, I reach over and pat his hand. "She's just speaking in general."

  "I do not know how to speak general," he says, and glances down at my hand on his. "You are touching me. Are you not angry? After all we have said to each other?"

  I shake my head. "A'tam—"

  "Time apart, guys," Steph chides us softly. "You need time to think on your own, okay?"

  "Right. Time apart." I nod and get to my feet. Maybe I'll check on the destruction of my pottery cave and see what havoc Juth and Pak have wreaked on it. I feel like we didn't get nearly enough accomplished in our talk, but I also understand Steph wanting us to defuse and step back before things got too heated. "Thanks Steph. See you guys later."

  29

  A'TAM

  Even though I want nothing more than to take my mate aside and talk to her, I spend the afternoon fishing. I cast my nets, over and over again, until my muscles are burning with fatigue, the twin suns are setting, and my stomach growls. S'teph told us to take this time and think about what our mate wants from us. I wish I had an answer, but I have never understo
od what B'shit wants from me.

  No, Br'shit, I correct myself. She does not like the way I say her name. B'rshit? B'rishit?

  No, wait, that is wrong, too. Buh…Bruh…

  I growl at myself, because my tongue does not want to twist around her true name. My mate, I finally amend, and am satisfied with that. I do not know what my mate wants from me. She is impossible to understand. I haul in my catches, spreading my net on one of the rocks for use in the morning. I suspect I will be doing a lot of solitary fishing in the days to come, trying to understand my mate and the things she says.

  As I head for the longhouse to bring my fish to be dried, I'rec and O'jek approach. For some reason, my heart drops. I do not wish to share with them my problems. They will want to know what is going on and I have no answers for them. I am confused and unhappy and all I want is my mate to look at me and smile.

  "A word, brother," I'rec says. His expression is inscrutable.

  "I am busy." I climb the steps to the longhouse and duck under the flap. To my dismay, the red-skinned twins, V'dis and Th'rand are there with their mates, tackling a load of fish next to a fire.

  An'shee smiles at me and her kit is strapped to her chest in a carrier, sleeping. She puts out a hand. "We'll take that, if you want. We're doing a lot of fish right now."

  She says this and I know I'rec and O'jek hear it. There will be no avoiding them, then. I fight back a sigh of frustration and give her the fish. "You have my thanks. I will take care of your catches next time."

  She just waves a hand at me. "We all help out."

  I nod and rub my jaw, turning back to I'rec and O'jek. I rub my chest as I do, wondering if I can escape over to my hut. I am wearing nothing but a damp loincloth thanks to my fishing, and since it gets cold at night, it would make sense for me to change clothes and throw on a warm layer. I avoid looking at them and head in that direction, hoping they will get the hint.

  "Is it true?" I'rec asks, his steps keeping up with mine. "Did you resonate?"