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Then he would be taken from me and I would never see him again.
And each time those thoughts entered my mind, I immediately batted them aside and focused on whatever I was doing at the time.
He won his fights but lacked the usual swagger he entered the Prize Pool with. I never told the other Prizes what was happening. They didn’t need to know.
They would only go on about it over and over again and then there really would be no way for me to forget about it.
He Claimed me, as always, this time without jokes or fanfare. I wrapped my arms around him and realized that this was a day of Last Times.
This was the last time he would Claim me…
The last time I would wrap my arms around him in front of the others…
The last time he would pick me up and carry me to his cell…
I felt the tears welling up again and I shook my head aggressively to dispel them. Not today! I berated myself. Later, I could cry all I wanted. But not today!
He laid me down on his fresh, crisp sheets and we made love. That was a last time too, although I was certain we would do it more than once.
Every touch of his skin brought electricity through me, every look lingered for what might have been hours. I let him have me, just as he let me have him. We needed each other and I would not ruin it with pointless arguments.
We laughed little and talked even less. Just being in each other’s presence was enough.
This time, he didn’t conjure up some far and distant land, some place in the cosmos that he had either been to or seen or imagined but instead we remained right where we were, because, at that moment, it was where we both wanted to be the most. Not on the surface of some distant sun or the glades of a forgotten moon… but right here.
In this cell. On this prison planet.
Alone. Together.
I kept hoping for a miracle to happen, for some office clerk to come in and declare that they got the dates wrong and that Ohara still had another year, month, week to serve (I didn’t care how long, just so long as he would stay with me).
But it never happened.
It never paid to rely on miracles.
Now and then, when he thought I wasn’t looking, he wore that same distracted expression as before when he had something he wanted to tell me… but couldn’t.
I couldn’t blame him for that. I likely wore the same look on my face.
There was so much to say, so much left for us to do… and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to say any of it. How sad I would be when he was gone, how I would never fall for anyone else, how I would always remember him. How he was the best thing to happen to me my whole life.
How I don’t want to let you go.
And that was the most truthful, the most honest thing I could have said.
But I didn’t.
It was already hard enough, fighting to keep the tears firmly behind my eyes.
We ate delicious Earth food that had somehow been smuggled into the prison. I don’t know where he got it from or how much it cost, and I didn’t ask. I just enjoyed the familiar — although different — flavor of the pasta, pizza, burgers, curries, and delicious tiramisu (my fave!).
The food provided the perfect distraction and I told him all about my memories of eating it when I was back home, and how there were tons of other meals from all four corners of the world that were just as delicious.
Ohara cocked his head to one side. “Your planet has corners?”
And for the first time that day, I burst out laughing, cupping a hand over my mouth in my usual way.
I explained what it meant and Ohara went on to explain his favorite food too, where it came from, how it was cooked, and when his people ate it.
