My worries, my life had felt so inconsequential in the middle of the vacuum of space. It reminded me that if I really needed some perspective, I could attempt another flight, as I’d vowed to do the minute I’d touched down in the landing capsule from the previous trip.

Another grand adventure for Adam. All alone. Because my last “grand adventure,” my Emilia, was turning out to be an epic failure.

Chapter Fourteen

DracoCon was in less than two short weeks and after the weekend, I found myself putting in long hours at work, despite Emilia’s requests that I restrain myself. I was well into my twelfth hour on Monday, running to keep ahead of another headache that had been hovering over my brain for the previous twenty-four hours. It was haunting me. Sometimes they came on that way…a distant inevitability that I knew I couldn’t avoid. Sometimes they struck suddenly, like mind-searing lightning.

This one ended up doing both. And it happened when the complex was mostly dark, at around 7 p.m. Several staffers had stayed late to get extra work done and I was on my way back to my office from development when the fucking thing slammed into me like a brick in the face. There were no visual distortions this time, just pure pain. I hadn’t had a violent one like this in a long, long time.

Thank God no one was around to witness it. I might have dropped to my knees and whimpered if I hadn’t been standing near the wall. I slumped against it, closing my eyes, hoping for this wave of cranium-crushing agony to pass. With it came nausea. My stomach turned. And if I didn’t will it otherwise, I’d probably soon be puking up my guts.

I crawled back to my office, threw open the door to the lighted hall, but kept the room in darkness. Going over to the couch, I slumped down and closed my eyes.

I lay there for almost half an hour, willing the pain to pass. I tried to decide whether I should give in now and take some kind of medication or if I should just tough it out.

I heard someone approach from the outside. I half-wondered, through the haze of pain, if Maggie hadn’t gone home yet, when the overhead lights came on, stabbing at my eyes and right through my head.

“Turn it off,” I moaned, throwing an arm over my eyes.

The lights flicked off immediately. I listened to the footsteps, hesitating in the doorway. Likely it wasn’t Maggie, but it might have been Jordan or one of my close associates who knew about the headaches. Otherwise I could just claim that I was sick from bad sushi at lunch or something.

Then the steps inched into the room, hesitating. “Adam? Are you okay?” came a small, quiet voice. I was in a full-on sweat now, but the headache wasn’t so horrible that I didn’t recognize the voice when I heard it. Emilia.

“I’m fine,” I said, my eyes still firmly shut. Even the dim light from the doorway would just aggravate the situation more. Right now that was the last thing I needed.

“You’re not fine.” Her voice came from right beside me. “You’re sweating.”

“I’m hot.”

“Bullshit. What’s going on?”

I breathed through another wave of pain. I put my hand to my forehead, pressed down in the center—the pain crackled, out of control. I let out a long breath.

“It’s just a headache. Go away, please.”

She set something down—presumably whatever it was she’d brought with her. “I was just leaving Mac’s display board for you to go over. When I saw the light off, I figured you weren’t here. You seem to be in a lot of pain.”

You seem to be in a lot of pain. Thank you, Queen of the Obvious, I wanted to reply. And it wasn’t just the wretched agony that made me wish I could decapitate myself, either. It was a deeper, soul-ache of a pain. The one in my heart. The hole she’d torn in it when she went away.

I turned my head away from her, facing the back of the couch.

“Adam, let me help you. Can I get you some water, anything?”

I blew out a long, tight breath. “It’ll pass soon,” I said. It had better fucking pass soon.

Emilia got up and shut the door to the office, leaving us in almost complete darkness. How she made it back across without tripping was a mystery to me. But in seconds she was beside me again, sitting on the edge of the couch, her hip nudging against my ribcage.

“You’ve had something like this before?”

She didn’t know about the migraines, because I’d never told her about the really bad ones I used to get. The few that I’d had while we were together had been easy to shrug off.

I turned my head back toward her and opened my eyes. I studied her silhouette in the darkness—the white blond hair stood out, even in the dim light. The pressure vise that held my temples eased up just slightly. At least the nausea was starting to fade.