Page 53 of Her Alien Owner
"I feel like a lot of these people could benefit from seeing how Armstrong was before." She lifts her eyes to meet mine, aspark of determination there. "We could collect old holo photos of Armstrong from before the war and show them at the gala. Remind everyone how beautiful it was and what it could be again."
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. It’s a simple yet powerful idea. “That’s brilliant,” I say.
Her cheeks flush with color, and she looks away, flustered. “I-I didn’t think you’d actually like it.”
“I do,” I insist, my tone unwavering. “It’s exactly what we need.”
She bites her lip, considering my words. “Alright then. I can help gather the holo photos if you want. I think my father has some in storage.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I say softly.
She nods, a small smile curving her lips as she stands up and brushes dirt from her dress.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” she says quietly.
“You’ve earned it,” I reply, unable to keep the admiration from my voice.
As she walks away to start on her task, I can’t help but feel a swell of pride and something deeper—something more profound—at having her by my side.
And just like that, Ariana continues to surprise me in ways I never thought possible.
The holo projector hums to life, casting a soft glow in the dim room. Ariana stands beside me, holding a stack of holo videos from her father's collection. She handles them with care, her movements precise and reverent.
“Here,” she says, passing me one. “This one shows Armstrong’s forests before the war.”
I take it from her, our fingers brushing briefly. “Thank you,” I murmur, slotting the vid into the projector. The room fills withan image of lush greenery, trees stretching towards a clear sky. Birds flit through the branches, and a stream gurgles peacefully.
Ariana watches, her eyes wide with nostalgia. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
“It is,” I agree. The sight tugs at something deep inside me—an echo of what my own home once looked like.
She turns to me, her expression earnest. “I’m glad my father kept these. It’s important to remember what we’re working towards.”
“I owe your father another debt of gratitude,” I say softly, thinking of how the man's previous research is already reaping benefits for my business.
Ariana hesitates, biting her lip. “Valen… could you ever have a relationship with your own father? Maybe you could meet and talk? It's been a long time, hasn't it? Surely he misses you.”
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. I straighten, the sorrow welling up inside threatening to choke me. “Ariana… my father is gone.”
She blinks, confusion knitting her brow. “Gone?”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Remember how I mentioned that the weapons I helped build destroyed my home planet?”
Her eyes widen with sudden understanding. “Oh no… Valen…”
“Yes,” I say quietly, each word heavy with grief. “The rest of my family died that day too.”
Ariana gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she steps closer to me, reaching out hesitantly before letting her hand fall back to her side.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“Don’t be,” I reply, though my voice wavers slightly. “It’s something I have to live with every day.”
She looks up at me, determination mingling with sorrow in her gaze. “You don’t have to bear it alone anymore.”
Her words offer a strange comfort—one that I’ve long since forgotten how to accept. But here she is, standing beside me amidst the ruins of our shared histories, offering solace without expecting anything in return.
I nod slowly, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “Thank you,” I manage to say.