Coalescence (Dragonfire Station Book 3)

hoped it indicated a casual evening with no expectations.
Fallon had gone casual as well, hoping to send her own message. Cargo pants and a short-sleeved knit shirt seemed to her to be an entirely unromantic choice of clothing.
“Have a seat wherever you like.” Wren gestured at the couch and chairs. “Would you like a drink?”
“Zerellian ale, if you have it.” She didn’t sit. She stood behind the couch, running a hand over the synthetic suede fabric.
Wren laughed lightly. “Of course I do.” She returned in less than a minute, offering a tall glass with a light froth on top.
Fallon wasn’t sure how to feel about Wren’s ability to read and anticipate her so well. It made her feel unarmed.
She noticed an enticing smell coming from the kitchenette. “Are we eating here?” She’d assumed they were going out.
“Yes. I hope that’s okay. I figured we’d be talking about some things that we’d prefer other people not overhear.”
“Must we? I was kind of hoping we could keep edging around each other, unsure of where we stand. So we could really prolong our awkwardness.”
Wren laughed. “As fun as that is, I think the time has come to really talk, Em.” She sobered and corrected herself. “Fallon. I know you prefer Fallon now.”
Fallon took a long drink before responding. “I do, but I don’t mind when people forget. I think of it as a nickname.”
Wren stood behind the armchair, playing with the stem of her wine glass. “I guess names don’t much matter in what you do?”
“So we’re jumping right in, then?” Fallon had expected a good deal of idle chitchat while the two tested waters before wading into deeper subjects.
“Yeah, seems like it. I’ve been waiting around for months, and there are things I need to know.”
“You haven’t exactly been waiting around.”
Wren’s lips parted in surprise. “Wow. I’m guessing that means you have a problem with me dating? I thought you might.” She took a breath. “Okay. I get it. And I’d rather be just a friend to you than nothing at all.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m still trying to figure all this out. It doesn’t feel backward to you to go from being married and exclusive to being in an open relationship?” Fallon felt her fighting instincts kick in and wasn’t sorry for it. She was better at combat than she was with relationships. “And if you’re seeing someone else you don’t want to stop seeing, why are you still interested in me?”
But Wren wasn’t a fighter. She’d never engaged with Fallon in that way. She merely tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. “Exclusivity was your thing, not mine. I tried it and it was fine because I’ve never cared about someone so much, but it isn’t natural for a Sarkavian. This is just part of who I am, like your inability to live a normal life is part of you.”
“Normal is entirely relative.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wren took a sip of her wine. “Having a short-term relationship with someone else doesn’t make me any less invested in a long-term relationship with you. The real question is, why did you get involved with me to begin with?”
Fallon had been asking herself the same question for some time now. “I always knew the kind of life I wanted, even as a kid.” She let out a slow breath. “But you were different than anyone I’d ever met. You made me think about my life in a new way.”
Wren ran her hand over the back of the chair. It was a nonchalant gesture, but Fallon knew Wren didn’t feel the least bit indifferent. “I wondered if I was part of some plan. If I was being used.”
Fallon looked directly into Wren’s pale eyes. “No. You weren’t.”
“I realize that now.” Wren made a helpless gesture. “But everything came down so hard, so fast. Your memory loss, this guy who showed up, saying you were part of some team. I wanted to stick it out, even though you might never remember me. Because you were still you, and we were still us.”
“What changed your mind?”
Wren moved around the chair and sat heavily. “I found out you were a BlackOp. That you’d married me with that massive secret between us. Even then I wanted to stay. Marriage isn’t something I take lightly. But if I stayed, only to realize I was being used, I’d never have trusted my own judgment again. I couldn’t do that.”
To Wren’s credit, she had no tears in her eyes, no waver in her voice. She owned up to her choices, and Fallon had to respect that.
Fallon eased around the couch and sat. “I get it, and I don’t blame you for your choices. I might have done the same. Probably would have. When I think it through rationally, I totally get it.”
“And when you aren’t being rational?”
Fallon set her glass on the narrow table between them. She gave Wren a long look, not sure how well she’d handle her answer. But she wasn’t going to lie. “I deserved better from my wife. If I’m going to be with someone, I deserve a person whose gut instinct is to cover me, no matter what. Someone who would watch the whole world burn rather than lose me.”
Wren sat frozen, her eyes flickering with a half-dozen discarded replies. She wasn’t the only one of them who could read the other. Fallon saw everything she felt.
Finally, Wren asked, “Does he feel that way about you?”
Fallon didn’t have to think about who she meant, or how Raptor felt. “Yes. But it’s different with him. He and I are…raw. Visceral. Like a chemical reaction. A bond that never breaks. But it’s not…” Her eyes trailed over the quarters, remembering them again as a place of comfort and warmth. She and Raptor had never walked hand-in-hand on the beach, or had breakfast in bed together.
Wren looked at her wine glass and blinked as if surprised that she still held it. She took a long time setting it