With a sigh, the woman rolled over to look up at the sky.
Was he up there somewhere? Last she'd heard, he'd taken a shuttle to some remote L-1 colony. Not that she was keeping track of him anymore. Not, really, anyways. But she was a prominent politician and knowing the whereabouts of known terrorists was always a good idea, even when they were on your side.
If the wars had proved nothing else, they'd proved that loyalties are fickle things.
Still, the last report about him had been almost a year ago. At this point, she couldn't even say with any degree of certainty whether he was alive or dead. Her heart said alive, her head said it didn't matter anymore.
They'd left each other behind as surely and completely as two people could.
And if she still looked up at balconies when she gave speeches and behind curtains when she was at political functions? Well, she was a politician and he was a terrorist. If they met again, undoubtedly it would be with a gun between them. The thought didn't upset her. There were worse ways to go and she knew he would make it quick and painless. It just wasn't in him to be cruel.
She smiled and raised one hand to trace the outline of the moon.
She hoped he was up there somewhere. He did make her life more interesting, after all.