Syrin sat by the window of her modest suburban home, staring out at the skyline as the sun dipped below the horizon. The vibrant city lights were starting to twinkle, but they did little to ease the ache that had settled in her chest. It had been a beautiful day—her wedding day—but it was incomplete. The one person she wanted there the most was miles away, across the galaxy. Sylva.

It had been over a hundred and sixty years since Sylva had left for Nerath, and even though time had passed, Syrin couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Back in the days when they were just kids, they would sneak out past curfew, sit side by side, and gaze up at the stars. Those moments felt like they could never end—like nothing could tear them apart. But now, those same stars, which once felt like a promise of their future, now only served to remind Syrin of how far away Sylva was.

She had tried, over the years, to fill the void that Sylva left behind. She had gotten married, started a family, and built a life for herself. Yet, no matter what she did, it never felt complete. There was always a gap, a longing that nothing and no one else could fill. The weight of it was unbearable at times, and no matter how much she pretended otherwise, the distance between her and Sylva was ever-present.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Dorian, her husband, entered the room, his expression soft and understanding. “You’re lost in thought again,” he remarked gently, sitting down beside her. His hand found its way to her shoulder, offering a silent comfort. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Syrin let out a shaky breath, meeting his gaze. “I miss her, Dorian. I miss her so much. Today… I thought I could feel some kind of closure, but all I feel is the emptiness.” She hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “I thought I could move on. I really did. But it’s harder than I ever expected. Every day, I hope for something more, but the truth is, Sylva is so far away, and it feels like she’s slipping further from me.”

Dorian’s face softened, his gaze warm and filled with quiet understanding. He didn’t push her to explain more, but his presence was a balm in itself. “I know,” he murmured, “and I’m here, Syrin. But I can’t take away what you feel. Only time can do that, and even then, I know it won’t be easy.”

Syrin nodded, turning her attention back to the tablet in her hands. It had been sitting there, quietly waiting, for what felt like an eternity. The small notification icon was blinking, a new message waiting for her. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the sender's name: Sylva.

The years apart, the loneliness—it all seemed to vanish in an instant as she opened the message. Sylva’s words were like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her heart. Each line pulled her in deeper, reminding her of everything they once shared.

Stolen novel; please report.

Subject: Congratulations!

Hey Syrin,

I just wanted to say congratulations on getting married! I looked through all the pictures you sent, and you looked absolutely stunning. I wish I could’ve been there, but, well... you know how it is. This planet doesn’t exactly terraform itself, and someone has to stay behind to manage the atmospheric processors and terraforming equipment.

Still, I’ve been thinking a lot about you and everyone back home. It’s been too long since we’ve talked in person. I miss the sound of your voice, the way you laugh at all my terrible jokes. I know it’s allowed for people to visit, and I checked—there’s no rule against it. So maybe, one day, you could come here? It’d mean the world to me.

You don’t have to worry about me, though. Everything’s going better than I ever could’ve hoped. The planet’s transformation is ahead of schedule. For once, it feels like we might actually beat that three-hundred-year timeline.

I love you, Syrin. Always have, always will. Don’t let life back home pass you by. And hey, if you ever need to talk, I’m just a starmail away.

Take care, okay?

-Sylva

The message hit Syrin like a wave. She wasn’t sure what she expected from Sylva’s words, but it was always more than she thought she needed. She could almost hear Sylva’s voice in each sentence, and that alone was enough to fill the empty space in her heart, even if it was only for a moment. Her fingers traced the screen as she reread the words, her chest tightening with both longing and warmth.

Dorian, sensing her emotions, leaned in slightly, his presence calming but not intrusive. “You should write her back,” he suggested gently. “She’ll appreciate hearing from you.”

Syrin hesitated for a moment before typing her response. There was so much she wanted to say—so much that words alone couldn’t fully express—but she knew this was the best way she could bridge the distance between them.

Subject: Wish You Were Here

Hey Sylva,

I hope this message finds you well. I still can’t believe it’s been over a hundred and sixty years since you left for Nerath. It feels like yesterday we were kids sneaking out past curfew to stare at the stars. A lot has changed here, but somehow it still feels like you’re just... out of reach.

The wedding was beautiful. I sent you as many pictures as I could, but they don't do it justice. You would’ve loved it—the ceremony, the music, the lights, everything. It felt incomplete without you, though. Everyone asked about you. Mom still talks about how proud she is of you, even if she doesn’t always say it right.

I know your work on Nerath is important, and I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to see life return to a dead planet. But I miss you, Sylva. We all do.

Maybe one day, when your work is done, I can visit. I know you said it’s allowed, but I also know how stubborn you are about "not being a distraction to the mission." Maybe think about letting someone or something distract you for once?

Anyway, I just wanted to say I love you and I’m proud of you. I’ll send more pictures soon. Take care of yourself, okay?

-Syrin

After hitting ‘send,’ Syrin set the tablet down, feeling both lighter and heavier at once. Her heart still ached for Sylva, but at least now she had said what needed to be said. She wasn’t sure when or if they would see each other again, but she had taken the first step in bridging the gap that had grown between them.

Dorian wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “She’ll get it, Syrin. She’ll know exactly how you feel.”

Syrin nodded, though a part of her still doubted. The universe was vast, and time passed with unyielding speed. The years between them felt like an eternity, and yet, Sylva’s message reminded her of something important—love, even across such distances, could still burn brightly.

“Thank you,” Syrin whispered, her head resting on Dorian’s shoulder. “For everything.”

“Always,” he replied softly, holding her tighter as they gazed out at the stars together.

There was no telling what the future held, but for now, this moment, this connection, was enough