Deena Grace, Tayvis' mother, sat alone at her table. Afternoon light left streaks of red-gold across the polished surface. She felt her son's pain. She also knew there was nothing she could do but let him go. He had to work his own way through it.
He really had loved the woman. Dace, what a strange name. She wondered what the story was and if Tayvis would ever tell her. Probably not, her son was a very private person. She sighed. It had been nice to have him with her for the last few months. She saw too little of him. And now she probably wouldn't see him again for years.
A sharp knock at her door snapped her out of her reflections. She stood gracefully and answered her door.
The messenger handed her a square of paper, folded into an envelope. He left immediately, not even waiting for a tip.
Deena fingered the paper curiously as she shut the door. There was only a single name on the front. Malcolm. It was written in a feminine hand that looped and scrawled its way over the paper. Deena frowned. Her son hated his first name. She used it mostly to tease him and because, as his mother, she could.
She slid her finger under the seal and pried it up. The paper was thick, stiff, expensive. It was also lightly perfumed. Her frown deepened. From what she'd heard and seen and knew of her son, the perfume didn't fit her mental picture of the woman Dace.
The note was short, written in the same looping scrawl.
It's over, let it go. Vance will make me happy.
"Poor boy," she murmured. It was a good thing her son had never seen the note. It would have killed him.
She pretended not to, but she knew exactly how he felt about Vance. She knew what had happened between them. She knew a lot more about him than he would have ever guessed.
Something felt wrong about the note. She frowned as she stared at the harsh words. She turned the note over. His name felt wrong.
She headed for the spare bedroom. Tayvis had left most of his belongings behind. Why would he take reminders of his pain with him when he was running away from it?
The notes were tucked away, a carefully wrapped stack in the back of the bottom drawer. She had to smile as she pulled them out. He really had cared for Dace. The stack was pitifully short, six notes in all. She unwrapped them slowly. She was invading Tayvis' ferociously guarded privacy. It was for his own good.
She spread the notes over the desk top. She placed the latest note beside the others.
The difference was immediately apparent. All of the other notes had been addressed to Tayvis, some with his rank and ship written in a different hand. She opened the notes, one by one. The handwriting was clumsy, almost childish. It had the sprawling loops of the newest note, but there were subtle differences.
She couldn't resist reading the other notes. They were mostly about other people, very little of Dace showed in the notes. But even the omission of Dace's thoughts revealed much about her. She was as private, if not more so, than Tayvis. And yet there was something touching about what was written. Dace had cared for the people she wrote about, it showed in her choice of words and stories.
She had also cared for Tayvis. It was never written, but Deena could feel it between the words on the paper.
What had changed so drastically? There was a gap of almost two years between the note delivered today and the last one in his carefully preserved stack. Had Dace really changed her mind?
Deena leaned closer over the notes, studying them in the soft glow that came on automatically as the sun set.
She couldn't have explained it, but she was convinced the latest note was not written by the same person. It would take an expert to validate her intuition, though. Tayvis had been deceived. Someone was deliberately trying to hurt him.
She fluttered through her apartment to the computer. She called up the news vids of the party. There was the footage of Vance making his announcement. She played it slowly, focused on the woman standing next to Vance.
The woman was short, her hair a mousy brown. She looked pale, her face pinched tight. From a distance, she looked as if she were any woman in love. She leaned on Vance, his arm around her waist. Deena enlarged the picture.
There were lines of pain carved into her face. Her eyes showed surprise and anger as Vance announced their engagement to the Empire. It changed to hurt as she looked out beyond the camera range. And then defeat.
The vids showed her and Vance turning away, talking to someone off to one side. She fast forwarded through the shots of people crowding around to offer congratulations. The Speaker finally waved them away. He and Vance spoke briefly. And then Dace left with the Speaker. The shot cut to Vance outside somewhere. He explained that Dace was tired, but that it was normal for someone in her condition. Nothing to worry about.
She sat back in shock at the implied meaning in his words. Dace was expecting a child. His child. No wonder Tayvis had been so hurt and angry. But there was something that didn't fit his explanation. Dace had looked in pain, even before his announcement. And the look in her eyes hadn't fit.
Deena went back to the vids of the party. She saw it in a long shot of the gathered crowd. Tayvis' dark head was there, close to the camera on one side. And in the distance, on the dais, Vance was announcing his engagement. Dace searched the crowd. Tayvis turned, stalking away from the party, his face a stone mask that hid pain and anger.
Yes, that was the moment that Dace's look turned to one of hurt. Deena was sure of it.
Then why hadn't Dace contacted Tayvis? What was preventing her? Deena was convinced that Dace still loved Tayvis, the look on her face couldn't be mistaken for anything else.
It was too late to stop her son from leaving. She had no idea where he would go.
She slumped back in her chair. "Oh, Tayvis," she murmured. She sat, helpless to stop the tragedy unfolding in front of her.