The Goddess Legacy
Page 62
“I’ll see you on the autumnal equinox. Take care of yourself.”
He remained stoic as I walked across the meadow, and a knot of guilt formed in the pit of my stomach. I should’ve told him, but these seasons were mine, and telling him before anything had happened wouldn’t have made it any easier. It wouldn’t have made him hurt any less.
I ignored Hermes completely. He frowned as I passed, but to my relief, he didn’t say anything. The situation was awkward enough as it was without his getting involved. Instead I headed toward Adonis first, taking his hand and giving him a smile. He returned it, albeit nervously, and he glanced over my shoulder. At Hades, no doubt. “It’s fine,” I said, and I led him toward Mother. “I want you to meet my mother, Demeter. Mother, this is—”
“I know who he is,” said Mother quietly. Instead of welcoming him like I expected, as Adonis bowed in greeting, her lips curled back with contempt. “I thought you were past this, Persephone.”
“Past what?” I said. “Past making friends? Past wanting to be happy?”
“Past causing your husband pain in the most deplorable way possible,” said Mother. Beside me, Adonis straightened, and I touched his elbow. No need for him to waste effort if she was going to be cruel about it.
“You’re the reason that me finding a bit of happiness is so deplorable in the first place,” I said. “If you can’t support me, then fine, I don’t need your support. And I don’t need you here, either.”
I didn’t know what I expected—an angry retort, a sneer, Mother to break down and beg my forgiveness. Either way, I didn’t expect her to fold her hands, give Adonis a slight nod and disappear completely.
All the air left my lungs, and I stared at the empty space where she’d stood moments before. She’d gotten mad at me before, of course, and her disappointment over the years had become impossible to bear. But never had she turned her back on me. Not like this.
“I am sorry,” whispered Adonis, his lips brushing against my temple. The regret in his voice only made the ache inside me grow.
“Don’t be. Please.” He shouldn’t have had to suffer for my mistakes. “Let’s just go.”
“All right,” murmured Adonis, leading me down the path I’d traveled thousands of times before. I trailed after him, heartbroken and empty, and not even the warm weight of his hand in mine brought me comfort.
I thought I’d known what loneliness felt like, but it wasn’t until I walked that trail without Mother that I finally understood. Even in my darkest hour, Mother had been there for me. She’d loved and supported me no matter how often or hard we fought. And now—
Now the one person I’d always needed, the one person I’d thought would always be there for me, was gone.
* * *
That summer was simultaneously the best and worst of my life.
The hole Mother had left inside me only grew as it became clear she had no intention of returning. But at the same time, those four months with Adonis filled me in a way nothing ever had before. Every moment was an adventure—I’d explored the forest around the cottage countless times, but somehow every day he managed to find something new, something small but beautiful that I’d overlooked. A wild garden full of exotic flowers that tangled together in chaos. A tree so ancient and gnarled that I suspected it outdated Zeus. He reintroduced me to things I’d long since lost—the warmth of the sun on my skin, the shiver down my spine as I stepped into a cool river. He gave me back pieces of my life I’d never realized I missed.
No one could deny Adonis was gorgeous, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized that his appearance was little more than a taste of his inner beauty. He was kind, generous, honest and, despite the fact that Aphrodite had gotten to him, he was innocent in a way I hadn’t been since my marriage eons ago. He had nothing but love inside him, and he radiated it every waking hour. I drank it in, letting it fill me until all of the negativity washed away, and by the time four months was up, I’d never been more content with my lot in life. All of it, every last terrible moment, was worth it now that I knew it had led me to Adonis.
In the middle of summer, Aphrodite came to claim him. To her credit, she was mostly polite about it, only giving me a small smirk when Adonis turned his back. But the instant they left, that hole in my heart opened up, hemorrhaging all of the happiness I’d collected during our four months together.
I cried harder than I ever had before. Now that Adonis was no longer there to act as a buffer, for days I did nothing but curl up in bed and stare at the wall as reality set in.
Mother hated me. I’d cheated on Hades again. Hermes was barely talking to me, and the one light in my life was currently with a blonde whore who couldn’t possibly love him the way I did. He was just another toy to her, and the thought of him going through that, having no say in his time with Aphrodite the way I’d had no say in my time with Hades—
It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing I could do about it, either. Zeus had made up his mind, and if Adonis wasn’t willing to speak up on his own behalf, then so be it.
Though I wasn’t proud of it, I spied on them. He didn’t kiss her the way he kissed me; he didn’t watch her the way he watched me. And every time Aphrodite laughed, I swore I saw him flinch.
That should’ve given me some amount of satisfaction, but it only made me more miserable. Adonis should’ve had what I didn’t—freedom. And instead, in my quest to find happiness, I’d stolen that from him. Did that make me as bad as Hades? As bad as Mother and Zeus?
He remained stoic as I walked across the meadow, and a knot of guilt formed in the pit of my stomach. I should’ve told him, but these seasons were mine, and telling him before anything had happened wouldn’t have made it any easier. It wouldn’t have made him hurt any less.
I ignored Hermes completely. He frowned as I passed, but to my relief, he didn’t say anything. The situation was awkward enough as it was without his getting involved. Instead I headed toward Adonis first, taking his hand and giving him a smile. He returned it, albeit nervously, and he glanced over my shoulder. At Hades, no doubt. “It’s fine,” I said, and I led him toward Mother. “I want you to meet my mother, Demeter. Mother, this is—”
“I know who he is,” said Mother quietly. Instead of welcoming him like I expected, as Adonis bowed in greeting, her lips curled back with contempt. “I thought you were past this, Persephone.”
“Past what?” I said. “Past making friends? Past wanting to be happy?”
“Past causing your husband pain in the most deplorable way possible,” said Mother. Beside me, Adonis straightened, and I touched his elbow. No need for him to waste effort if she was going to be cruel about it.
“You’re the reason that me finding a bit of happiness is so deplorable in the first place,” I said. “If you can’t support me, then fine, I don’t need your support. And I don’t need you here, either.”
I didn’t know what I expected—an angry retort, a sneer, Mother to break down and beg my forgiveness. Either way, I didn’t expect her to fold her hands, give Adonis a slight nod and disappear completely.
All the air left my lungs, and I stared at the empty space where she’d stood moments before. She’d gotten mad at me before, of course, and her disappointment over the years had become impossible to bear. But never had she turned her back on me. Not like this.
“I am sorry,” whispered Adonis, his lips brushing against my temple. The regret in his voice only made the ache inside me grow.
“Don’t be. Please.” He shouldn’t have had to suffer for my mistakes. “Let’s just go.”
“All right,” murmured Adonis, leading me down the path I’d traveled thousands of times before. I trailed after him, heartbroken and empty, and not even the warm weight of his hand in mine brought me comfort.
I thought I’d known what loneliness felt like, but it wasn’t until I walked that trail without Mother that I finally understood. Even in my darkest hour, Mother had been there for me. She’d loved and supported me no matter how often or hard we fought. And now—
Now the one person I’d always needed, the one person I’d thought would always be there for me, was gone.
* * *
That summer was simultaneously the best and worst of my life.
The hole Mother had left inside me only grew as it became clear she had no intention of returning. But at the same time, those four months with Adonis filled me in a way nothing ever had before. Every moment was an adventure—I’d explored the forest around the cottage countless times, but somehow every day he managed to find something new, something small but beautiful that I’d overlooked. A wild garden full of exotic flowers that tangled together in chaos. A tree so ancient and gnarled that I suspected it outdated Zeus. He reintroduced me to things I’d long since lost—the warmth of the sun on my skin, the shiver down my spine as I stepped into a cool river. He gave me back pieces of my life I’d never realized I missed.
No one could deny Adonis was gorgeous, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized that his appearance was little more than a taste of his inner beauty. He was kind, generous, honest and, despite the fact that Aphrodite had gotten to him, he was innocent in a way I hadn’t been since my marriage eons ago. He had nothing but love inside him, and he radiated it every waking hour. I drank it in, letting it fill me until all of the negativity washed away, and by the time four months was up, I’d never been more content with my lot in life. All of it, every last terrible moment, was worth it now that I knew it had led me to Adonis.
In the middle of summer, Aphrodite came to claim him. To her credit, she was mostly polite about it, only giving me a small smirk when Adonis turned his back. But the instant they left, that hole in my heart opened up, hemorrhaging all of the happiness I’d collected during our four months together.
I cried harder than I ever had before. Now that Adonis was no longer there to act as a buffer, for days I did nothing but curl up in bed and stare at the wall as reality set in.
Mother hated me. I’d cheated on Hades again. Hermes was barely talking to me, and the one light in my life was currently with a blonde whore who couldn’t possibly love him the way I did. He was just another toy to her, and the thought of him going through that, having no say in his time with Aphrodite the way I’d had no say in my time with Hades—
It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing I could do about it, either. Zeus had made up his mind, and if Adonis wasn’t willing to speak up on his own behalf, then so be it.
Though I wasn’t proud of it, I spied on them. He didn’t kiss her the way he kissed me; he didn’t watch her the way he watched me. And every time Aphrodite laughed, I swore I saw him flinch.
That should’ve given me some amount of satisfaction, but it only made me more miserable. Adonis should’ve had what I didn’t—freedom. And instead, in my quest to find happiness, I’d stolen that from him. Did that make me as bad as Hades? As bad as Mother and Zeus?
