Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Don’t.” I don’t know what I’m protesting, only that I’m already the walking wounded and I can’t take her kicking me in the teeth right now. “Just don’t.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.” She speaks so quietly, none of her normal sharp edges present. “We fought and we fucked and I haven’t slept in days. That’s all it was.”
Except we both know better.
Eris doesn’t sleep well. She hasn’t for as long as I’ve known her, which is most of our lives. She’s given dozens of answers over the years to explain it away, but I suspect the truth sources back to growing up in Zeus’s household. It’s bad enough to know her father murdered her mother—and got away with it—but he put all his children through trauma I can barely imagine. My parents can be difficult and stubborn and strict, but my home was a safe space. It still is a safe space.
She never had that.
She still doesn’t, though she’d fight me to a standstill if I suggested it. Eris doesn’t see what she and Zeus are doing as anything other than necessary, but marrying the enemy and going through torment to bring them down? That’s not normal, even for Olympus. It’s certainly not safe.
“Eris.” I catch myself. Eris might be who I fell in love with, but she’s not that person anymore. “I suggest you expand your security detail, Aphrodite. Maybe your husband won’t dare hurt you, but there are plenty of people in Olympus who are willing to kill for your title.”
“Adonis…”
She starts to rise, but I shake my head. “No. I’m done. Coming here was a mistake.” I keep expecting the pain of losing her to dull, but it’s as sharp as ever. Before, even when we were on a break, we were still friends. That isn’t true anymore. I can’t be just friends with this woman. We’ve been ingrained in each other’s lives for too long. Maybe we could never quite make it work in a permanent way, but we had our history binding us together.
Or at least we used to.
“I’ll leave my key on the kitchen counter.”
“Wait—”
I walk out of the bedroom before she can find the words to keep me there. She will. She always has in the past. What I need to do is leave immediately, but I find myself moving through the rooms of the apartment. There are so many good memories here from over the years. Evenings spent trying to cook whatever new dish Eris found on the food blogs she refuses to admit to anyone else that she loves. Lazy mornings strategizing on the political moves others are making and how she wants to either disrupt or assist. Nights where she fell asleep on my chest, her dark hair silky against my skin.
Never again.
I leave my key where I told her I would. It feels like a final goodbye. The elevator ride down to the lobby is even worse, to the point where I’m relieved when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Less so when I realize who it is.
Hephaestus: Meet me at my place.
I stare at the text for a long moment. Agreeing to help him was a mistake. I knew it going in, and what I found this morning only confirms it. I can’t take this man’s word for anything. Continuing this charade where I give him advice to help him undermine Eris’s—no, Aphrodite’s—plan to thwart the enemy? It skirts the line of making me a traitor.
In this moment, I’m not sure I care.
I type back a quick agreement and keep going. There are a pair of photographers huddled across the street, and I force my expression into my customary relaxed grin. They’ll already have enough to talk about with my rush into the building; no reason to give them more ammunition.
My mother calls as I head back to my apartment. I sigh and check my pace. “Hello, Mom.”
“Adonis, honey, why are you outside that woman’s apartment?”
My mom loves Eris. She genuinely hoped we’d get married at some point and pop out half a dozen grandchildren for her to dote on, despite the fact that neither of us are overly inclined to be parents. But ever since the marriage was announced, Eris has become that woman in conversation. As much as I appreciate the unrelenting support, it doesn’t change the fact that it makes me want to defend Eris. “I had to drop off my key.”
Her beat of silence lets me know what she thinks of that poor excuse. “That girl has her sights set elsewhere, Adonis. She always has. It’s time to stop following her around like a lovestruck teenager and find someone to settle down with.”
We’ve had a variation of this conversation a dozen times in the last dozen days. I can almost recite it by heart. “Mom, you’ve got to give me time.”