The question catches me off guard. I set down my fork, suddenly aware of the weight of truth I’ve been avoiding. “Not as much as I should,” I admit. “They live in San Francisco.”
“That’s not so far, right? Is it the distance?”
I shake my head. “After Claire died, I struggled to face anything outside work, including my parents. It was that look in their eyes, the pity, the concern…” I take a sip of wine, steadying myself. “I started making excuses. Work emergencies, scheduling conflicts. Eventually, they stopped asking as often.”
I never discuss my parents, certainly not the complicated tangle of guilt and avoidance that characterizes our relationship these days. Yet I’m revealing these private failures to Sophia, a woman I’ve met only twice.
Sophia reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Parents never stop missing their children, no matter how old they get.”
“I miss them too,” I confess. “And I’m facing thingshead-on now. I think I’m ready to let them back into my life fully.”
Athena shoots me an encouraging smile. “You could invite them over. I’d love to meet them.”
I study Athena across the rim of my wine glass. Her mixed messages confuse me—the woman who insists on strict boundaries while constantly breaking her own rules. She introduced me to her family and now asks to meet mine. Perhaps the most dangerous game isn’t the one we play behind closed doors, but this undefined territory we’ve wandered into—where rules blur, walls crumble, and hearts become collateral damage.
Yet in this beautiful contradiction, I find an unexpected haven—a place where grief loosens its grip and possibility breathes again.
FORTY-FOUR
ATHENA
The headlights of the limousine disappear around the bend as I stand in the driveway, hand raised in a final goodbye. A strange emptiness settles over me as their taillights fade into the darkness. For all the anxiety their visit caused initially, I’m surprised by how much I already miss them. My mother’s final embrace still lingers, the scent of her perfume—Chanel No. 5, unchanged since I was a child—clinging to my clothes.
As I walk across to my property, I see lights around the pool area are turned on. It’s only eight—Ruby is usually at the office much later.
Kicking off my shoes, I pad through the quiet house. The sliding terrace doors are open, and I stop at the threshold, smiling at the scene before me.
Ruby sits on one of the loungers, laptop balanced precariously on her knees. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing jersey shorts and an oversize sweatshirt. I’ve never seen her this casual, this relaxed.
Zeus prowls around her, occasionally batting at the corner of her laptop with obvious intent.
“For the last time, Zeus, leave it alone,” Ruby says, her voice a blend of exasperation and affection. “I don’t need your assistance.”
Zeus makes a chirping sound, pawing at the keyboard more insistently.
“What do you want?” Ruby sighs, pushing her laptop aside to address the cat directly. “You’ve had dinner. I’ve given you everything, including my own food.” She gestures to an empty plate where I can see the remnants of what appears to be grilled chicken. “What else could you possibly want? Do you want to write an email to Mommy? Because you don’t need to worry, she’ll be back soon.”
“I know this might sound crazy,” I interject, stepping onto the patio, “but I think he just wants you to pet him.”
Ruby startles, her head snapping up. “Athena! Will you stop sneaking up on us like that?” Despite her complaint, her face brightens.
“Sorry,” I say, though I’m not sorry at all. I love catching her in these unguarded moments. “How long have you been home?”
“A couple of hours. I left early to work here instead, but Zeus has been driving me insane—knocking over my coffee, swiping at my keyboard…” She shrugs, closing her laptop. “It’s fine. I was about to call it a day anyway.”
I settle onto the lounger next to hers, reaching for Zeus, who immediately leaps onto my lap. “You’re becoming quite attached to him, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ruby scoffs, though her expression is fond as she watches Zeus kneading my thigh. “He’s a terrorist.”
“Try petting him,” I suggest, running my fingers through his fur. “He likes to be scratched right behind theears.”
Ruby looks cautious but reaches out a hand anyway. To my surprise, he abandons my lap to settle on Ruby’s lounger, presenting the top of his head for attention.
With visible hesitation, Ruby strokes the spot I indicated. Zeus closes his eyes, tilting his head into her touch. A deep, rumbling purr emanates from his chest—the sound he usually reserves exclusively for me.
“What the fuck?” Ruby’s eyes widen in disbelief, her hand freezing mid-stroke.
I’m equally stunned. “That’s…unusual. Asha’s been feeding him since I got him and he’s never done that with her.” I watch in amazement as Zeus butts his head against Ruby’s hand, demanding more attention. “You’ve been chosen.”
