34. Alyssa

CHAPTER 34

ALYSSA

" P lease be advised that we are beginning our final descent into Terran orbit," the voice on the shuttle says, as I strap my seatbelt on.

I found Alyssa through my contacts. She's now living on Earth. Curiously, the tracking app that I had put it was no longer working. I figured that the IHC most likely found it and took it out when they were examining her.

I disembark the shuttle as it lands at Chiang Muy Spaceport on the southern part of the continent the humans call Asia.

"Thank you for flying with us, Mr. Gorn," the flight attendant says as she sees me pass through. I've been traveling incognito. Because I'm supposed to be dead.

I trace Alyssa to a city named Bangkok.

I settle in that night and in the morning, summon an aircar to take me close to the address I have of her.

The flight through the cities historic district is quick.

I step out of the aircar soon and onto the bustling streets of Bangkok, the humid air clinging to my skin like a second layer. The scent of street food and exhaust fumes mingles in the air, a cacophony of smells that assaults my senses. I scan the crowded sidewalk, my eyes darting from face to face.

And then I see her.

Alyssa stands at a fruit vendor's stall, haggling over a bunch of mangoes. Her hair is longer now, pulled back in a messy bun, wisps escaping to frame her face. She's laughing, the sound carrying over the din of the street, a melody I haven't heard in far too long. The sight of her hits me like a physical blow, memories of our time together flooding back in an instant.

But it's not Alyssa who catches my breath in my throat. It's the small figure clutching her hand, peering up at the colorful display of fruit with wide, curious eyes. A little boy, no more than two years old, with a mop of dark hair and features that mirror my own.

My son. The realization crashes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me stunned and breathless. I never knew, never even suspected. The child I didn't know existed until this very moment stands before me, a living, breathing testament to the life I left behind. My heart races, a mix of shock, joy, and an overwhelming sense of loss for all the moments I've missed.

He's the perfect blend of us both - Alyssa's delicate features softened by Vakutan strength. His skin is a warm bronze, and even from here, I can see the slight points to his ears. It's like looking at a living mirror of my own childhood, yet with unmistakable traces of his mother. He tugs on Alyssa's hand, pointing at something, and she bends down to listen, her patience evident in every movement.

"Mama, can we get the spiky one?" his high-pitched voice carries to me, a sound that pierces straight through my chest and nestles in my heart. It's the first time I've heard my son speak, and the realization nearly brings me to my knees.

Alyssa chuckles, a sound I remember all too well from our time together. "That's a durian, sweetheart. Trust me, you don't want that one." Her tone is warm, filled with a mother's love and amusement. I find myself wondering how many other moments like this I've missed, how many firsts have slipped by without my knowledge. The weight of my absence settles heavily on my shoulders, a burden I never knew I carried until now.

"But it looks cool!"

"Sometimes the coolest-looking things aren't always the best," Alyssa says, a hint of sadness in her voice that makes my chest ache.

I take a step forward, then hesitate. What right do I have to intrude on their lives? But as I watch them, I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. They're happy, safe. Everything I fought for.

Alyssa turns, her eyes sweeping the crowd, and for a moment, I think she's seen me. But her gaze passes over me without a flicker of recognition. I've changed too, I suppose. The years haven't been kind.

I watch, my heart clenching, as she pays for the fruit, then takes our son's hand. His small fingers curl trustingly around hers, and I'm struck by how much he's grown. "Come on, Laar," she says, her voice soft and warm. "Let's go home."

Laar. She named him after the man who died for us. It brings tears to my eyes, a lump forming in my throat. The weight of my deception presses down on me, even as I'm filled with an overwhelming love for this family I never expected to have. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision as they walk away, their figures blurring in the Terran sunlight.

As they walk away, I remain rooted to the spot, drinking in the sight of them. My family. My heart.