“Lois, what can I do for you?” Dr. Friskin asked warmly as she opened the door to her office.
Lois stepped into the office and waited for the doctor to close the door. “Clark mentioned that you wanted to speak to both of us,” she began.
“That’s right,” Dr. Friskin replied without missing a beat. If she’d been surprised to learn that Lois Lane and Clark Kent were also Ultrawoman and Superman, nothing she did betrayed that fact.
Lois hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how to proceed. “I’m not sure he’s ready to do that. But until he is…if you think it would help him to talk about anything I told you during our sessions, you have my permission.”
“That’s helpful, thank you,” the older woman responded.
Lois wanted so desperately to ask if Clark was doing better. His showing her the globe seemed like progress, but now that she knew something of what had happened to him, all she seemed to do was fret over how he was coping with it. But she’d come here knowing this conversation would be a one way affair. Dr. Friskin would never betray Clark’s confidence and for that, Lois was incalculably grateful.
Dr. Friskin regarded her with a sympathetic smile as she sat down in her large wingback chair. “How have you been handling this transition?”
Out of habit—even though it had been quite a while since she’d been here—she sat down on the leather couch. “It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be,” Lois admitted as she folded her hands. “I spent four years and three months dreaming about his homecoming. I don’t think I gave much thought to how hard it would be for all of us to readjust.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Dr. Friskin replied, giving what Lois now recognized was one of those verbal encouragements shrinks used to keep their patients talking.
“It’s just that…I’ve told him about everything –what I went through, what it was like without him. I’m not trying to compare scars, but I don’t think he understands how hard it was. I’m trying to be patient, but I was never very good at it…” She could hear her voice waver.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Lois. This isn’t an easy set of circumstances. And part of the reason I want to work with both of you together is so we can try to address both of your concerns. Clark isn’t the only one adjusting to a dramatic change.”
“I know,” Lois said. She hadn’t anticipated this brief visit turning into a therapy session, but it felt good to talk to Dr. Friskin again. “I want to be supportive, but…” she trailed off, not sure how to finish. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I wanted him to come home. I always just assumed that when he came back, everything would be easier. In some ways, it’s harder. It’s a horrible thing to say, and I don’t want you to think I’m anything but profoundly thankful that he’s home…”
“I understand. And what you’re going through is difficult, but it’s not surprising. Emotionally, we can’t prepare ourselves for a readjustment like this. When he was gone, you focused on your hope that he would come home, and it helped you do everything you needed to do. You couldn’t simultaneously do that and worry about what the transition would be like when he returned. It would have been too much.”
Lois sighed. As usual, her shrink made perfect sense. “We worked together for years before he left. We talked about things and argued about things and solved problems as a team. I just figured our marriage would be the same. I can see that it’s hard for him to deal with what happened and I don’t know what to do because it doesn’t seem like he wants my help.”
“You’ve both taken important steps, here,” Dr. Friskin counseled gently. “And I know you remember what it was like in his position, when you didn’t want the people you cared about to know what you were experiencing. You came out of your ordeal in Kinwara stronger than you were when it began. You learned to recognize your limits, even if you didn’t want to accept them. This, too, is going to take a lot of effort, but I think there’s a lot we can do together.”
“Thank you, Dr. Friskin.”
Dr. Friskin smiled. “I like to think of helping you and Clark as my own little good deed.”
Lois shook her head knowingly. “It’s a lot more than that. I wouldn’t have been able to carry on, to do Clark’s job, without you.”
********
“So who should the story be about?” Clark asked as he set the crayons down on the kitchen table.
“A dinosaur!” Jon said excitedly.
Clark pulled out a chair to sit next to his son. He looked down to watch as Jon swung his little legs back and forth, his feet nowhere near the ground. “A big dinosaur?”
“No, just a little one,” Jon replied. “And his doggy.”
“The dinosaur has a doggy?”
Jon nodded seriously. “The doggy has spots.” He took out a blue crayon and started scribbling on the paper.
Clark smiled. “What color are the doggy’s spots?”
“Purple,” Jon said without looking up.
“How about the dinosaur? What color is he?”
“Green,” Jon replied as he took out the green crayon and started coloring with that, too.
“What are the dinosaur and the doggy going to do?”
“Catch frogs!” It was getting a little too cold for them to traipse around in the pond now, but that didn’t stop them from writing a story about a doggy and a dinosaur who caught frogs. They spent the afternoon at the kitchen table, with Jon drawing with his crayons and happily explaining them to his father. While the pictures were only decipherable to the little boy, by dinner time, they had a whole story book of dinosaur adventures.
Clark heard the truck slowly pull up on the gravel driveway. A moment later, the door to the porch opened and his father and Lois entered the kitchen.
“Hey there,” Lois said with an easy smile. “What are my two favorite guys up to?”
“Mommy, we wrote a story!” Jon exclaimed as he hopped off his chair and carried the stapled stack of papers to his mother. He presented them to her, a beaming smile on his little face.
She scooped him up in her arms, still grinning. “Why don’t you tell me the story?”
Clark turned to his father as Lois and Jon made their way to living room. “Everything all set for the Corn Festival?”
His father nodded. “I’ll be manning the grill again this year. But I think they still need some help with the husk off. Are you planning on going?”
Clark dragged a hand through his hair. “I guess.”
“Well, if you can help out, give Gus a call.”
“All right, Dad,” he replied noncommittally as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wanted to beg off the entire thing. He couldn’t stand crowds and with superhearing, there was no way to ignore the fact that everyone would be talking about him. Sure, it had been months, but there just wasn’t enough good gossip in such a small town to displace him as a key topic of conversation. Of course, if he’d just been more of a regular presence, people would have gotten used to having him back. As it was, his rare appearances always set the gossip mavens chattering.
Well, the only way to end that was to start acting like everything was normal. Maybe if he quit hiding like a man afraid of his own shadow, he’d relearn how to navigate life in a town where everyone seemed to know everything about everyone. The more mysterious he seemed, the more people wanted to talk. Perhaps it was time to take away the mystique that had shrouded Clark Kent since his return. His heart pounding, his mouth dry, his palms sweating, he made his way to the kitchen to call Gus and see how he could help out.
********
The air was crisp and clear, the weather perfect for the first day of the Corn Festival. The whole town seemed to be out for the biggest event of the year. He tried not to be distracted by the swirl of activity that surrounded them. The sounds of laughter and shouting, carnival barking, and amusement park style rides put him more on edge than he’d expected. He held Jon’s little hand, mindful not to hold on too tightly. His son smiled up at his father, his face sticky with the pink cotton candy that he held proudly in his free hand.
“Daddy, can we ride the merry go round?” he asked.
“Let’s go see your mommy, first,” Clark replied. He worried that mixing all the cotton candy, caramel apples, and popcorn with rides that went ‘round in circles would make Jon sick. He probably shouldn’t have indulged Jon’s every request for the junk food, but it was still easier to give in than to be the strict parent.
Lois was at the stall set up for the Smallville Book Corner, signing copies of her book. Later, she was going to have a talk for high school students about service and activism. From a distance, Clark watched as she smiled and chatted with an excited young woman, holding on tightly to a copy of Lois’s book. The book signing was technically over, but a few people remained in a small group, speaking to Smallville’s most famous author.
“Hi Mommy!” Jon shouted as they approached the bookstore’s stall. He tugged his father forward and they made their way toward Lois. She smiled so openly, so joyfully at the sight of her son. Clark let Jon’s hand go and the little boy ran to his mother. Lois picked him up easily, sweeping him into a big hug. He watched, happiness stirring up inside him, as Lois laughed at having a cotton candied kiss pressed against her cheek.
He strolled toward them, his spirits buoyed by the sight of his young family. His wife favored him with a smile, which he couldn’t help but return. “Hey there,” she said as he approached.
“Hey Mr. Kent!” a teenager girl exclaimed. The small group turned its attention toward him. He tried not to flinch at the presence of so many people with their eyes on him.
“Hi,” he replied with a small nod and a tight lipped smile.
“Are you working the Husk Off?” Lois asked.
“Yeah, I have to go judge round one in a little bit.”
“Well, we’ll go find Grandma and Grandpa and meet you there,” Lois said simply. “Thanks guys,” she said, turning to the group still gathered at the stall.
********
“So how did it go?”
Clark tugged at his tie. He hated wearing these things. Being ‘Clark’ seemed somehow as strange as being Superman. “Fine,” he replied. “I mean, there was a lot of talk, you know, people whispering about being surprised to see me. Whether I was thinner than I was before I left. Wondering what had happened to me. A lot of speculation. But mostly, they were circumspect about it. To my face, it was just a lot of ‘great to see you, Clark,’ ‘glad you made it,’ sort of comments.”
Dr. Friskin proceeded with her usual routine of scratching out notes. “How did the crowds and the attention make you feel?”
“Like I was in a fishbowl,” he admitted. “I still don’t like being around so many people. Not really sure how I’m going to adapt to living in Metropolis again.”
“Have you decided to move back?”
“I think so,” he replied. “I mean, nothing definite yet. But I want to get my life back. Lois and I started talking about it. We need to find our own place.”
“Of course.”
“We both love this city. It’ll be easier for her work and for Ultrawoman.” He was still trying to get used to having someone else in on the secret. Talking so casually about Lois being Ultrawoman was so unnatural.
“What about you?”
“I’ve tried to start writing,” he replied as he sat up. He took an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “I couldn’t really figure out what to write about. But you mentioned before that I should try to figure out what bothered me most about New Krypton and what I hoped to get out of our sessions.” He stood up to hand his therapist the envelope. She took the envelope and put it under her notebook.
“Good,” she said. “We can talk about this at our next session. Have you given any thought to having Lois at some of our meetings?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he retook his seat. “Yeah. I want her to come, but…there are still things I haven’t worked out yet…”
“Have you started talking to her about your experiences?”
“Sort of,” he replied. “I told her about my birth family. My parents sent me here as a baby to protect me. They died when Krypton was destroyed. I was found by the Kents. They adopted me and raised me. But I started developing my powers when I was about eight or nine.” He told her what it was like growing up, not knowing if he was a Russian or a Martian. He told her how terribly afraid he was of the strange things he could do. He told her about secretly searching out for others who were like him. Hoping to find some evidence that he wasn’t completely alone in the world. That if he was a freak, at least he wasn’t the only one.
“I knew I was different, but I didn’t know I was from another planet until after I moved to Metropolis and created Superman. My parents had included a globe in my spaceship, it had the last messages my parents ever recorded on it. It just sort of turned on one day, and played the messages. I didn’t know there were other survivors until Ching and Zara arrived here four years ago asking for my help. While I was on New Krypton, I met my parents’ closest friend. He gave me the recordings he had of my family. I showed the first one to Lois.”
“That’s great,” Dr. Friskin said warmly. “This is a big step, Clark.”
He felt his mouth twist into a wry imitation of a smile. “It feels more like a stall tactic,” he replied.
“Clark, you’ve said yourself that your experiences on New Krypton were varied. There were certainly many bad ones, but there were good ones as well. Those experiences were part of your life for four years. Lois will want to know about them and it can be a good thing for you to share them. You don’t need to think of this as a stall tactic. Letting her in, even if it is by sharing the seemingly innocuous events, can help you reconnect.”
He closed his eyes and nodded, trying to let the words sink in. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should try. “We’ve gone on more than an hour,” he said as he looked at his watch.
“I guess we have,” Dr. Friskin agreed. “I’ll see you in a few days, then.”
“Thank you,” he said as he stood to leave.
“Of course, Clark,” she replied with a warm smile. She stood to see him to the door.
********
She sat back down at her desk as soon as he was gone and took the single page out of the envelope he had handed her.
I was raised to be an honorable man. To always do the right thing. To take care of the people I love. To protect and help those who were weaker than I. To be faithful to the things that mattered to me. It wasn’t hard to do these things before. I honestly believed that I was a good man – that I’d been tested and had proven it to be true. But I had no idea what it meant to be tested.
That place broke me.
I was supposed to protect people. Instead, two of my bodyguards died to keep me safe. My officers allowed more than a thousand people to be slaughtered because they hid vital information from me, thinking I was too weak to deal with it. I turned my back on the people who’d stood by me. I was cruel to those who’d shown me nothing but kindness. I broke faith. I wanted nothing more than to end another man’s life, preferably with my own bare hands. I prayed for death, knowing its sweet release would mean breaking the most important promise I’d ever made. I even tried to kill the good that was left in me, to go numb to everyone else’s pain so that breaking my oaths and dying on that damned, desolate rock would be easier.
I killed a man.
I had told myself that I could never do such a thing. I was absolutely convinced of that fact. And yet, I was the one who killed the leader of the rebellion. I shot him in battle. I was already wounded and he was about to kill me. It was easy for everyone to dismiss the possibility that I killed him out of rage or a desire for revenge for what he did to me.
I used to be someone people could depend on. I used to be confident in the fact that I could be a powerful force for good in the lives of others. I want these things back. I want to be someone people can trust. I want to stop living in my own nightmares. I want to believe that I didn’t kill the good inside me that day along with Nor. That when I shot him in that corridor, I didn’t also destroy Superman.
How do you cause that kind of violence, and then go back to being a person again? How can I raise my son, live with my family, go back to being someone who helps people, after something like that?
And that was it.
That was the big secret he’d been keeping. Bigger than his dual identities. Bigger than what Nor had done to him. It was what he had done to Nor. Clark Kent, Superman, had taken another life. That fact was tearing him apart. It was a dark truth he couldn’t vocalize. But he could write it down. He’d put his confession on paper, perhaps because he’d been afraid to see the reaction it would create. She felt like she understood better why he was so fixated on Superman’s unimpeachable moral character.
Superman would never kill a person. But Kal El had had no choice. To Clark Kent, there was no real distinction among the three personalities. To a certain degree, that was good. He wasn’t using alter egos to dissociate. His persona, complex though it was, was well integrated. But that integration relied on his remarkable powers. He could live a life of greater moral clarity because his powers obliterated certain gray areas. He held himself to such high standards because those standards made it possible for people to accept and welcome Superman. And though it would have been impossible for an ordinary man to maintain such moral absolutes, Clark Kent thrived on that kind of clarity. The starkness of good and evil in the world he occupied made him comfortable. To be all powerful and to lurk in the muddled, confusing gray zones would have been intolerable for him. And yet, for four years, he’d had to live in a world of moral relativism, waging and sometimes personally fighting a war –witnessing violence he was not only powerless to stop, but violence for which he felt responsible. He may have been without his powers, but it was obvious that that hadn’t changed his moral frame of reference. The absolutes didn’t disappear quite as easily as his invulnerability.
She folded up the note and put it back into the envelope. With deft movements, she spun the dial, unlocking the safe under her desk and opened its weighty metal door. She placed the envelope and her notes inside, where she kept everything relating to Lois Lane and Clark Kent. Ordinary secrets were a burden enough. These confidences were of life and death importance. It made her job more difficult, not being able to consult with colleagues – it wasn’t as though she could properly discuss this case by simply eliminating identifying information. But that was a burden she’d knowingly undertaken when Ultrawoman became her patient years ago.
She closed the safe and locked it firmly, checking the handle twice.
********
“Jon’s asleep,” she said as she walked into the den.
Clark put down the newspaper. “It’s a great column,” he said.
“Thanks,” she replied with a slight smile. “I might have to spend some more time in Metropolis to cover the story, though.” She’d only hit the tip of the iceberg, it seemed, in uncovering racial profiling by lawyers in the city’s criminal courts. “Maybe you and Jon should come?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I did promise Perry I’d come in at some point.” She joined him on the couch, curling up next to him as his arm came around her shoulders.
He picked up the folded newspaper. “This almost makes me nostalgic for New Krypton’s courts,” he said, taking the very first step of starting a conversation about that place without prodding.
“Oh yeah?” she asked after pausing for a beat, obviously surprised by his choice of topic.
“It took months to convict Nor of treason. Testifying against him was one of the hardest things I had to do. But I had an amazing lawyer who prosecuted the case.”
“So you captured Nor?” she ventured hesitantly.
He smiled wryly. “I didn’t. Commander Talan did.”
“Commander Talan…he was the one who rescued you, with Ching, right?”
Clark chuckled softly as he kissed the top of her head. “Not he. She,” he corrected, remembering how he’d made the exact same mistake the first time the inimitable commander had been mentioned to him. His mood sobered considerably. “She was probably the best officer in the history of the Kryptonian Forces. She saved my life at least a half dozen times. She captured Nor and ended the war.”
“I’m glad to know there were good people who helped you.”
“There were,” he agreed. “They’re a good people. They were trying to scrape out a life for themselves in the most inhospitable place you could imagine. I know Zara and Ching seemed… cold, when you met them. But they really did everything to put their people ahead of themselves.”
“Are they okay?” she asked.
He’d almost forgotten just how much she didn’t know, how much he’d been keeping from her. “They are. They’re together. Ching took my place when I abdicated.” It was the first time in a long time that he’d smiled while remembering New Krypton.
“You made sure of that, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I told the Council I wouldn’t abdicate to anyone besides Ching,” he admitted.
Lois looked up at him and touched his face. He dipped his head down to kiss her. “You are a good man, Clark,” she said. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes closed, his forehead touching hers. “No matter what, please believe that.”
“You know that I do,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion.
“I want you to watch the recordings on the other globes. I think it might help.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. He hugged her a little bit tighter.
********
A breathless sigh escaped her lips as he slowly withdrew from the kiss. In the darkness, she lay in his arms, spent from passion, knowing sleep would come soon. She turned onto her side, his powerful body molding itself to hers. He took her hand in his, knotting their fingers together. Lois felt him press his lips to her shoulder.
Their intimacy tonight was more than physical. For the first time since he’d returned, he’d truly opened up to her about what New Krypton had been like. It was more than a relief to know that there had been people there who had helped him and supported him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?” She could feel his breath on her neck and it sent a delightful shiver down her spine.
“For telling me about New Krypton. I know it must be hard.”
“It is,” he admitted. “It seems like it would be easier to just forget sometimes. But not all of it was bad.”
“Good or bad, you know there isn’t anything you can’t tell me, right?” He was silent for too long. “Clark?” she ventured hesitantly.
“The things that happened to me there, I’m not proud of the way I reacted to them. I should have been better. I should have done better,” he replied.
She lifted his hand to her lips. “You survived, you came home to me. Whatever else happened, we’ll get through it together.”
********
She picked up the final globe, wondering what images, what messages, it held in store for her. She’d spent the better part of the day watching these recordings, while the rest of her family was at the Corn Festival. Through the hours of captured memories, it was almost like she knew Clark’s birth parents and their dearest friend, the physician who had made these recordings. They may have been Kryptonians, but they were still so recognizably human. She could tell how much they loved each other. How much they loved their children. The penultimate globe had captured her husband’s first days. What should have been a time of unalloyed happiness for the House of El was tainted by the bitterness of a rapidly dying planet and haunted by the ghost of a beloved daughter lost years before.
The globe was warm to the touch. It glowed softly as it activated.
“Good tidings, my friend. The First Ministers, Enza, Lok Sim, Commander Talan, and I wanted to take this final opportunity to wish you well and thank you.” It was a message from Tao Scion. He had aged from the earlier images of him with Jor El and Lara, his hair now snow white. Smile lines gathered at the corners of his bright blue eyes. He warmly called Clark “young man,” and repeated something Lois had always known. With tears glistening in his eyes, he whispered: “Your mother and father would be so proud of the man you have become and what you have done for their people. It was the greatest honor of my life to see my friends’ son all grown up. You will be missed, my young friend, but I am so happy to know that you are returning to the family and friends you love so much. Thank you and may fortune be with you all the days of your life.” The old physician disappeared as the message ended. As soon as it did, another began.
“Hello, Clark.” The sight of Zara, fondly greeting Clark caught Lois completely by surprise. Ching stood beside her, but Lois barely recognized him. He was smiling. It was a good thing the globe could float under its own power because she let go of it, her hands dropping listlessly by her sides.
“We wanted to thank you again for all that you have done for our world,” Ching said as he took Zara’s hand. They were both dressed in black robes over simple black uniforms, cloaked in almost regal air. “You saved our civilization and brought peace to our people. We owe you a debt we could not begin to repay, but please know that you have this world’s everlasting gratitude and love.”
Lois felt her lips turn upward in a smile. The Ching she had met briefly more than four years ago had been dour and unyielding. He hadn’t seemed particularly impressed with Clark at the time and he’d made no attempts to hide his disdain. The man in the image before her, profoundly moved by gratefulness, was someone else entirely. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Her husband had that effect on people.
“And Lois, if you are watching this…” Zara began. “We want you to know how grateful we are for everything you have sacrificed. I know it is no consolation for the many years we deprived you of your husband’s company, but he was the greatest leader New Krypton could have hoped for. We are humbled to have served with him and honored to call him our beloved friend.”
“Several times during this war, I almost lost Zara,” Ching said soberly, with a quick glance at the woman he loved. “I didn’t fully appreciate what we were asking you to risk and sacrifice. I think that I do, now. I’m sorry for everything that you must have endured. You and Clark have both given up so much in the service of perfect strangers. Not many people would have done that. Your sacrifices were not in vain. New Krypton is at peace because of you two. Thank you.” As he concluded, Ching bowed his head solemnly, his eyes closed.
Lois wiped an errant tear from her cheek. These people loved her husband and it lifted her heart to know that. It surprised her to see the warmth that radiated from their voices and their smiles. Ching and Zara had seemed so aloof and distant when she had met them. They spoke only of duty and responsibility.
It seemed strange to watch these messages without Clark. He had assured her that he wanted her to watch them; but she wondered about the fact that Ching and Zara’s message was directed to her, and yet he’d never mentioned it. She knew it was difficult for Clark to watch these recordings, but he’d never so much as mentioned the fact that his friends on that world had recorded these personal farewells.
The next recording was of a young man and woman, dressed in the same sort of black uniforms as Ching and Zara. She wondered if they were military, or if all Kryptonians wore the same, simple clothing. The woman wore a peculiar metal brace on her right arm, holding it stiffly at a sharp right angle. They were visible only from about the waist up, but the young woman appeared to be sitting in a wheelchair. A scar on her forehead, though fading, bore witness to what must have been a terribly wide and deep gash. Lois wondered how she’d received such awful injuries. The man next to her looked like a powerful, towering figure, even when seated. But his eyes were so gentle. He smiled almost shyly.
“Farewell, sir,” the woman began. “It has been a true honor and privilege to serve your administration. Thank you so much for what you have done for our world. And for Lok Sim, Thia, and me.”
“We truly cannot thank you enough,” the young man said softly as he glanced at the woman beside him, his eyes betraying his quiet adoration. “We can raise Thia in a world at peace because of you. We wish you all the best in your life, sir. May fortune be with you.”
Thia must have been their child. She wondered what role this young couple played in the life of Kal El. They had clearly worked for her husband, but in what capacity? She supposed it didn’t matter. They regarded their former leader with the same quiet admiration and gratitude that Ching and Zara had expressed. She was almost surprised to see that New Krypton, a world she hated for taking her husband away, would be the home of people this gracious.
The image faded away and another appeared. She felt her jaw go slack at the sight of the woman in front of her, whose piercing gray eyes held Lois’s gaze from across a distance of billions of miles. “Good tidings, sir,” the woman said, her voice clear. Her blonde hair was pulled back simply. Her face was, of course, devoid of makeup—Kryptonians would never have had time for something as superficial and silly as that—which meant that she woke up every morning that breathtakingly beautiful. The prominent cheekbones, the flawless skin, the slim, straight bridge of her nose, the defined and elegant line of her jaw. She wore the same black uniform the others had worn. She had to be Commander Talan: the last person Tao Scion had mentioned in the litany of those who’d recorded these farewell messages.
But that didn’t make any sense. The commander who’d saved Clark’s life? Who had captured Nor and dragged him to justice? Lois had expected Brunhilda the Warrior Woman, with burly arms and a Viking helmet. Or the female version of Patton, wizened and grim, and chomping on a cigar.
Not Heidi Klum meets Wonder Woman.
She spoke of honor and sacrifice and profound gratitude, but Lois scarcely heard a word of it. For the briefest of moments, she saw a flash of emotion in the woman’s otherwise dispassionate expression. Her perfectly shaped brows arched upward, gathering closer together in a look of pure anguish. Her eyes were full of loss. Though Lois couldn’t imagine looking less like the woman staring at her, in one sense, it was like peering into a mirror. She’d seen that expression before. On her own face. On the morning Clark had left.
It was the look of a woman saying goodbye to the man she loved.
All the air had been sucked out of the room. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t draw a single breath. Her legs threatened to buckle underneath her and she stumbled, vision blurred by burning tears, running away.
She fled. She raced from the room in uncoordinated, flailing steps. Trying to hold back a sob until she had at least crossed the threshold. As though crying in front of that woman—even though she was no more than recorded image—was an ignominy she could not bear. Lois raced out of the farmhouse and shot up into the sky. She coughed and choked as she was overwhelmed by the tears coursing down her face and the sobs that shook her body violently.
Commander Talan had loved Clark.
She knew it. All the way down to the marrow in her bones, she was absolutely sure of it. Her stomach tied itself in knots. Had Clark known? Oh god. Had he? He’d claimed he wasn’t proud of how what he’d done on New Krypton. She closed her eyes, remembering the things he’d said. And suddenly, she couldn’t get the image of the woman out of her head. It wasn’t just Commander Talan. It became impossible for her to see anything besides her husband in the other woman’s embrace. Her slender, elegant figured entwined with Clark’s powerful frame, providing him comfort when there was no one else there for him.
The tears did nothing to blot out the terrible images, the products of an overactive imagination and fears she could scarcely believe she was entertaining. Her Clark would never have betrayed her. It wasn’t in him to do so.
But what he’d been through, what he’d suffered…how could anyone have been expected to endure that? How could anyone have carried that burden alone? Her skin grew clammy. The bile crept up in her throat. She was going to be sick. Lois doubled over in what was nothing less than physical agony.
She was contemplating the worst betrayal she could imagine. And yet…
Even if it was true, even if he had sought comfort from another woman, she would forgive him. If the torment he’d suffered meant that the crushing sense of loneliness had grown too burdensome, if the ache to feel the warmth of a heart beating against yours had been too great, and the need to prove to yourself that the human touch could convey something other than pain and cruelty had overwhelmed him, she would find a way to understand. Lois Lane, who would never tolerate infidelity, who would never play the longsuffering wife, was already prepared to forgive him.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
How could she even contemplate forgiveness?
How could she not?
