Our Star
Flash fiction about the promises we keep
This is my entry for Wild K. Nebula’s Tides of the Soul prompt for this final week of 2025. It was a quote paired with a micro-prompt, and you can learn more about it here.
We had plans, you and I. We were going to change the world. Not just the world, either, the entire universe.
I mean, come on, you invented faster-than-light travel! Your designs made the infinite universe finite. Humanity’s dream of visiting far-flung galaxies was finally coming true.
Of course, you wouldn’t live to see any of it. The universe always exacts a price for progress.
“Some lights are fragile and fleeting, yet they burn fiercely enough to guide me home,” you said. It was a quote you’d heard somewhere before. One of your favorites.
“Show me one more time,” I said, unfurling the star chart.
You tried to sit up, but your body wouldn’t listen. You started coughing, and you didn’t stop until blood stained your lips.
You laid back down, your skin more pale than moonlight. Your shaking finger pointed to it. I already had the location memorized, but I loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about it.
“So, we’ll meet there, right?” I asked, trying to hold back tears.
You nodded. “Yes, and don’t be late.”
I rolled up the star chart and set it down on the table beside your bed. I carefully lifted the cables that snaked across your body and slid beneath them, climbing into bed beside you.
You were so frail. That damn disease had eaten so much of you, but it couldn’t take your spirit. Your fire was still alive. At least, for now.
“You know, I feel like I should be scared, but I’m not,” you said.
“I’m more angry than anything,” I replied.
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. My body shook as I sobbed into the sterile sheets that covered what was left of you. You ran your hand through my hair, comforting me when I should have been the one comforting you.
I was scared. Did that make me selfish? I didn’t know how to live in a world without you.
And yet, that’s the one I soon found myself in.
With your designs, it took me six months to reach our star. I went alone. Spent all the money I had to secure a ship and supplies.
I made you a promise, and I intended to keep it.
When I arrived, the sight of it took my breath away. A white dwarf, just like you said it would be. A star that had shed its skin and burned only through residual heat.
Still bright enough to guide me home.
I put on my suit and headed to the airlock. I was so nervous, but not because I was about to go into space.
No, I had butterflies in my stomach. The kind you get before you meet with someone you’ve missed.
This was insane, I knew that.
You were gone. I buried you.
And yet, there was a part of me that still had hope. I cycled the airlock, checked my tether, and stepped out into that ocean of stars.
It was so quiet. Painfully silent. Our star looked even more beautiful without the glass and steel separating me from it. It was perfect. Just like you.
“So, what do you think?”
My heart skipped a beat as your voice reached my ears. The air jets on my spacesuit hissed as I turned toward the sound. My eyes nearly refused to believe what I was seeing.
It was you. Floating there in space right in front of me. It was you before the disease had taken its toll. Perfect like a memory.
“I…I don’t understand,” I said.
“You seemed surprised,” you said, “You didn’t think I’d miss our date, did you?”
My mind still couldn’t fathom what I was seeing. Scientifically, factually, fundamentally, this didn’t make any sense.
Am I hallucinating?
You laughed. A sound I didn’t think I’d ever hear again.
“No, you’re not hallucinating. Turns out there’s more to existence that we realized. Not surprising, really.”
I reached down and unclasped the tether. “Take me with you,” I whispered.
The smile left your lips. “What? No, no, you need to stay.”
The tears came swift, burning inside my eyes.
“No! No, this was a way one-way trip. I only brought enough supplies to get here. There’s nothing left for me back on Earth. Not without you.”
I reached out toward you, but you were just out of reach.
“This was a mistake,” you said. “I shouldn’t have told you to come here, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
You started to fade. I panicked. My hands reached up to my helmet, fingers resting on the latches.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“I promised I would meet you here. I never promised I would go back without you.”
I pressed the latches and opened the helmet. In an instant, everything went black.
I awoke to the steady beeping of a heart monitor. It was a noise I knew all too well. My eyes shot open. I looked around the room. It was just like yours, maybe even the same hospital, but that wasn’t possible.
“Hello? Anyone there!” I shouted.
A nurse came into the room, her eyes wide. “You’re awake?”
“What happened, where am I?” I asked.
“You were found out in deep space. Your ship had sent a distress signal and the crews found you floating nearby with nearly zero oxygen left. There was a leak in your suit, you’ve been in a coma for nearly seven months. Let me page the doctor. I’ll be right back,” the nurse said, leaving the room.
I tried to think back to that moment when I saw you. Out there, in the light of our star.
Did that really happen, or was it just a lack of oxygen from the leak in my suit?
Did you save me? I wouldn’t put it past you. You were always more stubborn than me.
I had to believe it happened. I needed to believe.
You want me to stay? Fine, but if you’re reading this, I want you to know that when my time comes…
I’ll meet you again at our star.
Thanks for Reading! Here’s Your Musical Pairing
Listen to this after reading, like pairing a glass of wine with dinner.
Loved this.. ❤️
I love this story so much. It reminds me that no matter how vast our universe is, our worlds are still other people and the love we have for them. Beautiful story.