Chapter 45
Mara
Two months after the Galactic Survivor Games ended, Mara had learned three things:
She hated press conferences.
She hated promotional events even more.
And she really hated being called “Earth’s Sweetheart Champion” by reporters who didn’t know the first thing about her.
The GSG had held her to every clause of her contract—interviews, appearances, product endorsements, even a cooking segment where she had to pretend, she knew what she was doing with an ancient Earth spice rack. She smiled, she waved, she answered questions, she posed for photos.
She hated every second of it.
But the moment she was free, she went home.
Straight to her father.
The treatments she’d fought so hard to win the credits for began immediately. And miracle of miracles—he responded well. Better than well. He was recovering at home now, walking around, cracking jokes, and complaining about her cooking like nothing had changed.
Mara spent every day with him. She cooked (badly), cleaned (begrudgingly), and hovered (unapologetically). She didn’t go out. She didn’t see friends. She didn’t sleep much. But she was there.
Today, Valorie was coming over with dinner—real food, edible food, food that didn’t require Mara to search “how to boil water correctly.”
There was a knock at the apartment door.
Mara opened it to find Valorie juggling two large grocery bags and wearing a grin that said she was ready to cause trouble.
“Move, woman,” Valorie said. “This stuff is heavy.”
Mara laughed and grabbed one of the bags. “What did you bring, a whole restaurant?”
“Close. I brought enough to save your father from starvation.”
As if summoned by the word food, her father shuffled out of his bedroom, sniffing the air dramatically.
“Thank God you’re here,” he said to Valorie. “If I have to eat one more thing Mara ‘dabbles’ at, I think I’ll cry.”
“Dad!” Mara gasped, scandalized.
Valorie burst out laughing. “Go sit at the table, Martin. I’ll bring everything.”
“I can help,” Mara protested. “This is my home, you know.”
Valorie waved her off. “Go sit with your father. Let someone wait on you for a change.”
Mara grumbled but obeyed, plopping into the chair across from her dad.
“I thought you liked my cooking,” she said with an exaggerated pout.
Her father reached across the table and patted her hand. “Normally I do. But you haven’t been yourself lately.”
“I’m me,” she insisted.
“No, you’re not.” He gave her a look only a parent could give—equal parts gentle and brutally honest. “You haven’t found pleasure in anything.
You don’t go out with your friends. You stay home with me all the time.
You quit your job. You try making all these weird foods because nothing tastes good to you anymore. And you don’t sleep at night.”
Mara looked away.
It was hard to sleep when she’d gotten used to falling asleep in Vaelor’s arms. Harder still to wake up without him there.
Valorie walked in with a platter of food, interrupting the moment. “I’m spending time with a friend right now,” Mara said defensively.
Valorie set a steaming bowl in front of her. “Homemade vegetable soup.”
Mara stared at the bowl.
Then burst into tears.
Not cute tears. Not delicate tears. Full-on ugly crying.
Valorie froze, horrified. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no,” her father said, moving to sit beside Mara and pulling her into a hug. “She’s just missing her man.”
Valorie sat on Mara’s other side. “So it’s what we suspected?”
“Afraid so,” Martin said. “Our Mara here is lovesick.”
Mara wiped at her face, mortified. “What are you two talking about?”
Her father gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know you’re in love with that Crytharian. Why haven’t you reached out to him?”
“I tried,” she said, voice cracking. “Right after I won, I tried to contact him. But the GSG officials said Vaelor requested immediate departure to his home world. And when I asked for his contact information, they told me he didn’t want it given to me. That he didn’t want to see me again.”
She burst into another round of tears. Then hiccuped. Loudly.
Valorie took a bite of bread. “I think that’s bullshit.”
“I agree,” her father said. “Remember what I told you before you went off to college?”
Mara sniffed and took a sip of water. “You said not to let anyone speak for me. That I had a voice and I should use it.”
“Exactly.” He squeezed her hand. “If those words didn’t come out of his mouth, then don’t believe them. From what I saw on screen, that man is deeply in love with you.”
Valorie waved her bread like a baton. “Seriously. It was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen when he stepped back and let you win. I cried. My mom cried. My dog cried.”
Mara groaned. “I don’t know how to contact him.”
Valorie shrugged. “Then go to him.”
Mara blinked. “Go to his home world? How would I even do that?”
Her father smiled—the kind of smile that meant he was about to do something outrageous. “Let me handle that.”
Mara’s eyes widened. “Dad, I’m not leaving you here.”
“You won’t be,” he said, patting her hand. “I’m going with you.”
Mara stared at him.
Valorie grinned.
And for the first time in two months, Mara felt something spark inside her chest.
Hope.