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This… this is too much.

I take a deep breath, letting the influx of oxygen clear my mind and calm my body, then retreat to the silent darkness of my room.

With a heaviness I feel down to the marrow of my bones, I exhale and fall back into the bed. Closing my eyes, I try not to think about Marek. I turn my thoughts to Robert and I realize I don’t even know if he’s okay. Which probably makes me a shit human being.

“Metis, is Robert safe?” I keep my eyes closed as I wait for a reply.

“His vitals are normal.”

“Where is he?”

“In the cafeteria.”

Grabbing a snack after all the calamity, I guess. “Is he alone?”

“No. He is speaking with another passenger.”

He’s fine. That’s all I need to know. The longer he can stay out and entertain himself with other passengers, the better.

Robert and I haven’t had any physical intimacy. We haven’t spoken about it, just simply let things be without going further. I’m sure at some point he’ll press the issue—not out of any sort of brutish impatience, but because that’s the deal. Our anatomical counterparts are supposed to get together eventually because that’s how procreation works.

Sometimes I wonder if Robert has his eyes on someone else. He seems as hesitant to explore our relationship as I am, and my heart is very hung up on another.

That’s just me hoping for an easy way out. Robert’s being kind and respectful. I’m not so lucky as to be paired with the one person on this ship who also wishes they got placed with someone else.

The situation starts to bum me out so I sit up, thinking of what to do with my loneliness. As usual, my eyes turn to the bathroom.

I stand and peel off the dress that looked so good just a few hours ago and now is torn and dirty.

I toss it in the trash bin and walk naked toward the bathroom in desperate need of a long, hot soak.

I take my sweet time pulling out bath salts and setting the mood. Tonight has been an utter shit show and I’m going to pamper myself before kissing the day goodbye.

Moments after I slide in, I hear the soft creak of the pipes telling me the shower in the neighboring suite is running.

Marek.

What am I going to do about Marek?

Nothing, it would seem. It was a mistake, as he said. One we cannot repeat.

The man didn’t want to be part of the Lottery for a reason. He doesn’t want a pairing. His fancy computer thinks Robert and I make a good couple, so that’s that.

Maybe Metis knows something I don’t.

“Metis, has Robert ever inquired about me?”

“No.”

I exhale, then dive into the real question. “Um, Metis. Has Marek ever inquired about me?”

“He has,” she says simply.

My heart pounds more aggressively in my chest. “How many times has he inquired about me? Total.”

“Twenty-two times,” she says.

My heart plummets into my stomach. “What does he ask?”