“I don’t know, my darling,” says Daddy, running his fingers through my hair. I’ve missed that. I’ve missed him. “What I do know is that it is a choice you’ll have to make. I made the mistake of trying to force you into something you didn’t want once, and I won’t do it again. You have my permission to decide. But be careful, and think it through—whatever choice you make will define this part of your existence. Maybe all of it. Make sure it’s someone you want to be tied to forever. My sons love you in very different ways, and love can either be a gift or a curse. Try to choose the first, if you can.”
“Which one’s that, Ares or Hephaestus?”
“That’s for you to decide.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m glad you’re home.”
When our conversation is over, I carry Eros into the corridor where Persephone and Hermes disappeared. He’s never had the chance to make friends before, and I want that for him. I don’t want him to be alone.
“Heh!” cries Eros, suddenly struggling in my arms. I blink, making my teary eyes focus, and I spot a bulky figure looming far down the hallway. Hephaestus.
I hug Eros tighter. I’m wrong. He does have a friend. And if Hephaestus meant it when he said he’d be there for us always, no matter what—
“Aphrodite?”
I turn. Ares stands in the middle of a guest room, looking weary and more miserable than I’ve ever seen him. The spark’s still there when his eyes meet mine, but it’s lessened somehow. And that hurts me. Badly.
Hephaestus forgotten, I slip into the chamber and set a squirming Eros down. He takes off on his little legs, and I start to follow. When he turns left, however, I know where he’s going, and I force myself to stop. Hephaestus will watch over him. I need this moment with Ares.
“He’s big,” says Ares roughly, and he sits on the bed. I hesitate. I don’t want this to be purely about sex. I want him to love me the way Hephaestus does, too. And maybe he does—maybe the heat’s overshadowed the rest of it for so long that I can’t recognize the warmth anymore. But the way the spark between us has lessened…
“Yeah, well. That’s what happens. Babies grow up.” I lean against the wall instead. “I wish you hadn’t gone away.”
He furrows his brow. “I wish I hadn’t had to.”
“You’ll always have to leave at some point, won’t you?”
“But I’ll always come back to you.”
I believe him. He squints at me as if it hurts him, as if I’m still his sun and I’m shining too bright for him to face me head-on, and the ice around my heart melts. I’ve been so busy thinking about what I want that I haven’t stopped to think about how this must be hurting him.
“I’m never going to be like your mother,” I say softly. “I’m never going to be able to devote myself to one person no matter how much I love them. You have to leave to do your duties, and this—this is my way of doing mine.”
He swallows. “I know. I don’t like it, but I know.”
“It doesn’t mean I love you any less,” I say. “I don’t. I love you so much it hurts. But—I can love other people without my love for you fading. If anything, it only makes me love you more.”
His mouth forms a thin line, and he stares at his hands. I’ve never seen him so undone before. I’m used to his rage, his fire, but this quietness is unnatural. And I’m the one who did it to him.
“Do you…do you still love me?” I say in a small voice, and his head snaps up. He rises without a word. Crossing the space between us, he embraces me.
“Always,” he murmurs. “I still want to marry you, Aphrodite. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. My favorite moments are when I’m with you. I don’t want that to end.”
“It never has to,” I promise. Something twists inside me, though. Beautiful, perfect—the things I am to everyone else, as well. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does, and I hate myself for it.
He hesitates. “But I can’t marry you when you’re still seeing him. I need you to understand that. Anyone else—I don’t care who, you’re free to do whatever you want as long as you love me most of all. But Hephaestus…”
I grow still. I expected this, of course. Ares sees the world in black-and-white, and no matter how happy Hephaestus makes me, Ares doesn’t want to compete with his brother. After all, he might lose. I understand that. It hurts, but I understand. And at least he isn’t lying to himself.
“I love you,” he says. “I love every part of you, except the part of you that—cares for him. I want to marry you. I will marry you, and we’ll spend our lives together. But in order for us to be happy, you can’t see him anymore. That’s all I ask.”
My heart flutters. It may be the only thing he wants, but it’s not exactly a small request, and the thought of never seeing Hephaestus again—of never feeling that warmth, of never getting to be with him—makes me ache in a way I’ve never ached before.
Ares or Hephaestus. The love I want or the love I need.
It isn’t fair. But Daddy’s right—whatever I choose is going to define the rest of my life. There will always be battles, and there will always be war. No matter how often Ares promises he’ll be there for me, he will leave. Probably more than I realize. So that’s my choice—a life of intermittent fire, of waiting for Ares to return home from whatever battle he’s disappeared to, or a life of steady warmth. Of companionship.
And maybe Hephaestus isn’t lying to himself. Maybe he is willing to share me in a way Ares isn’t.
I hesitate. “I love you and Eros. I love our family. If I could only know one truth in my life, that would be it. But—if I didn’t marry you…if I did what Daddy wants…”
Ares stiffens, and his warmth turns to ice. I expect nothing less, but it still hurts.
“I could still be with you,” I say. “We wouldn’t lose anything.”
He hisses and pulls away. “Do you really think that? If you belonged to him—”
“Belong? I don’t belong to anyone, Ares.”
“Of course you do,” he scoffs. “You belong to me.”
I slap him. Hard. The sound of skin against skin echoes through the chamber and undoubtedly down the hallway, but I don’t care who hears it. “The only person I belong to is myself.”