Chapter 18 Rhea
RHEA
Idon’t know how long we sit there on the loading dock—me wrapped in a borrowed jacket and Valtron with his elbows braced on his knees, hands twitching like he’s fighting the urge to hold me again.
But the sun sets.
And neither of us moves.
The stars start to peek through the dome’s shield above the arena, glittering behind waves of plasma static and city haze. And still, we stay.
Breathing.
Not touching.
Not yet.
I’m so tired. Bone-deep. Soul-sick.
Like the war never really ended—it just got quieter. Slipped inside my veins, made a nest in my spine.
“You should go,” I say, not looking at him.
His voice is rough. “Do you want me to?”
The question sits there between us, aching and honest.
I shake my head once, slow. “No.”
He doesn’t leave.
He follows me back to my quarters, wordless.
Not hovering. Just near.
Like gravity.
Ripley’s already asleep when we get there. I peek in to check—she’s snoring softly, starfished across the bed, clutching that ragged little bramblebear she refuses to let go of.
Her hair’s tangled in every direction. Her foot’s hanging off the edge.
Valtron leans in the doorway behind me. His breath hitches.
“You okay?” I ask.
He nods. Doesn’t speak.
Doesn’t need to.
I lead him to the common room, and we collapse onto opposite ends of the threadbare couch like survivors after a storm.
He runs a hand through his hair, and I pull my knees up under my chin.
“You should hate me,” I whisper.
His brows furrow. “Why?”
“For not telling you. For shutting you out.”
“I don’t.”
“Why not?”
He shrugs. “Because I get it.”
I blink. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Silence again.
Then he leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and raw.
“You think I wanted to disappear? You think I just bailed because I didn’t care?”
I shake my head.
“I know better.”
His eyes are dark in the low light. “I didn’t think I’d survive that mission. Hell, I shouldn’t have. They sent me to die.”
“I know,” I say again. “I know what that kind of mission looks like.”
He swallows.
“The pit fights... that wasn’t living. That was surviving. That was me clawing at the galaxy, hoping maybe—maybe—my name would land on the right ears. That you’d hear it. That she might someday hear it.”
Tears hit my cheeks before I realize I’m crying.
I wipe them away, harsh and useless.
“I never wanted to raise her without you,” I whisper. “But I didn’t think I had a choice.”
His voice softens. “You do now.”
Those three words crack something open in me.
Like a lock undone from the inside.
I move across the couch, slow. Not thinking. Just needing to be near.
And he doesn’t grab me.
Doesn’t pull.
He just opens his arms.
And I fold into him like I’ve belonged there the whole time.
No explosions.
No shouting.
No dramatic music.
Just the rhythm of our breath, slow and jagged.
Just his chest, warm against my cheek.
Just his hands, shaking a little as they settle against my back.
I cry harder than I have in years. Not loud. Not wild.
Just steady.
Like grief finally loosed.
Like hope hurting its way out of me.
Valtron doesn’t shush me.
Doesn’t flinch.
He just holds on, like the pieces of me won’t fall if he’s strong enough to keep them close.
After a long while, I tilt my face up.
He kisses me.
Not hard.
Not desperate.
Just soft.
Real.
Like we’re both remembering something sacred.
When we part, I rest my forehead against his.
His eyes are shining.
“Can I know her?” he asks, voice barely audible.
Not take her.
Not claim her.
Just… know her.
I nod. Once.
“Start small,” I say. “Start slow.”
He lets out a breath like it’s the first one he’s taken in years.
And then—for the first time in weeks, maybe longer—he smiles.
It’s crooked. Tentative.
But it’s his.
And in that moment, I realize I’m not carrying this alone anymore.
I never have to again.