Fey pressed her hand up against the cold plastic of the ship’s window. Outside, the stars hung in the blackness of space, quietly glistening in the otherwise lifeless vacuum.
“Do you think it’s out there? Earth?” Fey asked her husband, Kegro.
“I hope so,” Kegro said, as he wrapped his arms around Fey, his hands settling at her stomach, “for the three of us.”
“They can’t grow up in here,” Fey said, pressing her hand against the cold ship’s walls, “not like us. I want them to feel the air on their cheeks, not just read about it in books.”
“We’ve got another cryosleep to go yet,” Kegro said, “you know that as well as I.”
Fey nodded. It was the fact that she didn’t want to accept, the fact that because she was pregnant meant that she couldn’t go into the cryosleep.
Her husband, however, was the captain. That meant that he had to be there when the ship landed on earth.
“I don’t want you to go,” Fey whispered, twisting in her husband’s arms and pressing her face into his chest. She wanted to savour all of this, to drink it all in, before her husband left her.
“I know,” Kegro said, pressing a kiss on top of Fey’s forehead. She couldn’t help the tears that trickled down her cheeks, everything just hurt too much to think right now.
“I’m here now,” Kegro whispered. Fey didn’t answer, only to pull her arms tighter around her husband’s waist.
But you won’t always be here, she thought, I don’t want to let you go.
“I’m here now,” Kegro whispered, caressing Fey’s hair, “I’m here now.”