Chapter 8: Caressa Married

Caressa's POV

They were not allowed to touch until the end of the ceremony. Though it lasted no more than ten minutes, it felt like an eternity. When she at long last felt his hand reach for hers, she knew that it was time for their first kiss. She was more than ready for it. When his lips finally, softly, pressed against hers, it was warm, and in the end, to her mind, all too brief.

Michyle inhaled Caressa's perfumed hair for the entire duration of the ceremony. He was not sure how he made it through; it took every ounce of dignity not to grab her arm and drag her to his ship right then and there. As soon as the proclamation that they were now married was made, he took her hand and watched as she closed her eyes. He leaned in, knowing he had to stay in control.

The five seconds that his lips touched hers were nothing less than intoxicating. He pulled away, afraid to scare her by coming on too strong. He smiled as her hand gripped his tighter and tugged him closer. He leaned in again and kissed her long and deep.

Caressa wrapped her arms around his neck and as the spectators cheered he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the building towards his ship. Both only vaguely heard the announcement of the reception as they held onto each other, and Caressa rested her head on his shoulder.

Caressa stepped onto Michyle's ship, and took note of the artificial air, which seemed stifling, as well as the cool metal that seemed to entrap her. She had not thought it necessary to visit the ship before the marriage, but now, at that moment, she wished she had. It was the most foreign environment she'd ever been in. It wasn't just cold, it was lifeless. The droning of the engine, although low, seemed to burrow beneath her skin as it hummed against her eardrum.

She leaned heavily on Michyle.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

"It's so strange," Caressa admitted as a wave of disorientation hit her. The ground seemed to shift as she walked, causing her to stumble more than once on the way to their suite. For the first time, true fear crept into her heart as she questioned her hastiness in marrying.

"Is the ship making you uncomfortable?" Michyle asked. She could hear his growing concern and wanted to assure him that she was fine, but couldn't make her mouth form the words.

"We are going to step onto a lift. It will take us right to our suite."

Caressa nodded in response and endured the short ride to their rooms.

Michyle took her past the living area and into their bedroom, pushing aside any thoughts of celebrating their first married evening together. He laid her on the bed and watched helplessly as she seemed to have difficulty breathing. He called the ship's medic to come and examine her.

After an hour of waiting outside the bedroom door, Michyle was told that Caressa would need several days to become acclimated to the environment.

"She's never taken in processed air," the medic told him. "She's never been in a small interior space that she will be unable to leave. We don't see much cabin fever in Universal territory because ship travel is so common. But, as this is her first time…"

"I understand." Michyle had thought to stay a few extra days in order to get his new wife acclimated to the ship. But he knew that his stay had gone on almost too long. As it was, he would arrive home nearly nine months after leaving. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just give it time," the medic suggested . "If it is possible to get plant life in here, that may help. I gave her a sedative for now. She should rest through the night. If she still seems uneasy, I'll prescribe something stronger for her."

Michyle thanked the doctor.

He then went in to check on Caressa and saw that she had taken off the wedding dress and remained in a thin camisole. She slept in a quasi-fetal position with the bed covers just over her hips. Her hair was loosened and draped around her like a protective cocoon. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to help her through the worst of her anxiety, but didn't know how.

He sent a few of the crew members to collect flowers and plants that would last during the journey. He hated not being able to do more. When the crew returned with enough flowers and potted plants to fill their entire suite of rooms, Michyle thanked them. They worked quickly to line the suite with the plants. Still, Michyle never felt so helpless or useless in his life. At last, at a loss for ideas, he finally settled on calling for one of the female staff to sit with her while he lost himself in work.