Chapter 33-A new beginning

Chapter 33: 33-A new beginning

"I don’t want to spend another day doing that."

Nathaniel’s eyes returned to her. Something inside his expression softened. Only slightly but Aymara noticed it. She noticed everything about him now.

Every shift, hesitation and small movement. Perhaps that was because she had finally understood how much she had once taken for granted.

"We’re moving forward now," she said quietly.

Nathaniel’s brows furrowed. "Moving forward?" He wondered what that meant.

Aymara nodded. "Just the two of us."

His eyes widened slightly. "Just the two of us?" He asked, voice full of the doubt he tried to hold in.

"You and me," she smiled faintly. "No Dylan, no one else deciding what our relationship should be and no one telling me who I should keep in my life." ℯℯ𝘭.

Nathaniel stared at her. The words sounded almost too simple. After six years of distance, after everything they had lost, she was talking about a future with only the two of them in it.

Yet she wasn’t asking him to accept it. She wasn’t demanding that he return to the place he had once occupied in her life. She was simply telling him where she wanted to go.

Aymara slowly reached for his hand again. This time, she didn’t stop herself. Her fingers gently settled over his.

Nathaniel’s hand remained still beneath hers. Every instinct told him to pull away before the contact became a promise, but the warmth of her palm held him there.

"I won’t force you to accept me," she whispered.

His gaze dropped to their hands.

"But I’m done letting other people decide who belongs in my life."

His throat tightened and went dry. He should have pulled away, he knew he should. Maybe he should have told her that six years couldn’t be repaired with a few heartfelt words.

Instead, he remained still, afraid that moving would reveal how badly he wanted to stay. He let her hold his hand, too afraid to hold hers because of what it would mean if she let go again.

"And you think that’s enough to rebuild everything?"

Aymara shook her head. "No, I’m not that naive, Nate. I know that it will more than words to make up for my mistakes and the pain it caused. All I ask for is the chance to do that."

Her fingers curled slightly around his hand. A chance was a good thing but it also held chances of being hurt again. He didn’t think his health could handle being abandoned by her a second time.

"I think it’s a new beginning," Aymara went on to say.

The silence felt different now. It was still fragile and uncertain but it was no longer completely broken.

Nathaniel slowly looked down at their hands. He didn’t reach for her, squeeze her hand or forgive her and he certainly didn’t trust her again, not yet.

But when Aymara’s fingers rested against his, he didn’t pull away. That small choice felt more significant than any promise could have been.

Aymara lowered her eyes, hiding the tears that threatened to fall. She knew better than to mistake this for forgiveness. It wasn’t.

Nathaniel hadn’t forgotten the six years she had left him behind. He hadn’t suddenly stopped hurting but he had given her something far more precious. A chance to prove herself and she was more than happy.

"I should clear the dishes and wash them and you should rest," Aymara said, withdrawing her hand hesitantly. "Why don’t you rest for a little while longer and we will talk again after."

"Alright," Nathaniel slid back down in a comfortable position and didn’t say anything else.

Aymara picked up the tray, gathering the empty bowl, cup, and medicine container with trembling hands.

"I’ll let you rest." Her voice was steady, each word controlled. Before Nathaniel could respond, she hurried toward the door, needing to leave before her composure cracked.

The moment it closed behind her, her steps faltered. She stopped in the corridor, pressing her back against the wall as she stared at the tray. For several seconds, she stood rigid. Then she lowered her head.

The conversation had torn open wounds she hadn’t realized were still bleeding.

After her rebirth, she had been too busy surviving to grieve or too afraid to begin. She had thrown herself into preparation: food, water, medicine, fuel, weapons, defenses, agriculture.

There was always another upgrade, danger, or mission. If she stopped, she might remember Dylan, the betrayal, and the crew she had saved only to have them turn against her when survival mattered more than gratitude.

She feared she might remember being cast aside after everything she had done for them: the ocean swallowing her, the helplessness, terror, and pain.

Worst of all, she was afraid she might remember Nathaniel. Her fingers tightened around the tray. In her final moments, knowing she was dying, she had dragged him down with her and realized that the person she had spent six years pushing away was still the one beside her when the world ended.

Her throat tightened. A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by more. "Damn it..." The words were barely a breath.

She had mourned her lost world, Nathaniel, and the life she never got to live. But she had never mourned the girl who trusted the wrong person, abandoned the right one, and paid for it with her life.

She had survived by turning every wound into a task and every memory into a plan, burying whatever she couldn’t face.

Aymara drew in a shaky breath. Her shoulders trembled once before she forced them still. "No... Not here... Not now..."

She could grieve later after the ship was secure, Nathaniel was safe, and every system and danger had been accounted for. There was always a later.

The apocalypse was less than a day away. She still had a ship to manage, systems to check, and defenses to monitor. She wiped her face, took several slow breaths, and forced her expression into composure, but the mask no longer settled as firmly.

For the first time since her rebirth, Aymara acknowledged the truth: surviving the apocalypse had not meant healing from it. It had only taught her to keep moving while she was still bleeding.

Before she could build a new life with Nathaniel, she needed to stop running from the one she had lost. She needed to grieve.

She rushed on ahead sniffling. "I’ll heal once I’ve had my revenge. Until then, I’ll hold it," she said.

Until she personally saw to it that Dylan and Sarah suffered for everything they did, she wasn’t shedding a single tear for them.

"Only a few hours are left and then we’ll enter the "no rules" world. After that... everything goes."

Outside, another deep rumble of thunder rolled across the ocean. The ship trembled faintly beneath them.

Beyond the reinforced windows, dark clouds continued to gather over the endless sea, hiding the approaching storm beneath their heavy shadows.

The apocalypse was less than a day away. The world they knew was about to disappear.

And perhaps, in the middle of its destruction, Aymara and Nathaniel had finally found the courage to begin rebuilding something of their own.

Not what they had once been but something new that belonged to just the two of them.