Zeus shifts at our feet, stretching before settling again with a contented purr. Outside, the desert night envelops the house in silence, and the world beyond these walls feels immeasurably far away.
“Do you know the myth of Baucis and Philemon?” I ask. The question rises from nowhere, although I have an idea where my subconscious was going with it.
Ruby shakes her head. “Tell me.”
I shift closer, my leg sliding between hers. “Zeus and Hermes decided to visit Earth in human form,” I begin. “They wanted to test human hospitality, so they disguised themselves as poor travelers and knocked on door after door, seeking shelter. But no one would take them in.”
“Not even recognizing gods among them,” Ruby murmurs.
“Exactly. Until they came to the home of an elderly couple—Baucis and Philemon. They were poor but offered the strangers everything they had—food, wine, their own bed.” My hand finds hers, our fingers intertwining. “During the meal, the couple noticed something strange. No matter how much wine they poured, the jug remained full.”
“The gods revealed themselves,” Ruby guesses.
I nod. “They did. Zeus and Hermes were so moved by the couple’s generosity that they granted them a wish. And do you know what they asked for?”
“What?”
“They asked that neither would ever have to live without the other. They requested to die together, whentheir time came, so neither would know the pain of being left behind.”
Ruby’s breath catches audibly. I feel her body tense against mine, and I wonder if I’ve wandered into dangerous territory, evoking echoes of her loss. But she gives me a sad smile and swallows hard. “Continue.”
“The gods granted their wish,” I say, stroking her cheek. “When they were very old, the gods transformed them into two trees—an oak and a linden—growing from a single trunk, their branches forever intertwined.”
“That’s beautiful,” Ruby whispers, and I see her eyes are shining. “Why did you tell me that?”
I consider deflecting, offering something light. But it’s too late; I’m already cracked wide open. “Because it’s about love and about finding sanctuary in each other. About recognizing the divine in ordinary moments of connection,” I say. “And this feels divine.”
“It does.” She squeezes me and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I never took you for a romantic.”
“I used to be.” I shrug. “I am. It’s still there. I can feel it simmering when I’m with you.”
We lie in silence, the rise and fall of Ruby’s chest a rhythm that calms my racing thoughts. Her fingers thread through my hair.
“I never thought I’d feel this way again,” she says. “After Claire…I thought that part of me was gone forever.”
I meet her gaze, finding in her eyes a vulnerability that mirrors my own. The moonlight catches the tears gathering at their corners.
“But here you are, making me feel everything I thought was lost.” She wipes away a tear that rolls down her cheek and takes a shaky breath. “I love you, Athena.”
My throat constricts, emotion rising so quickly I almost choke on my reply.
“I—I love you too,” I manage, the declaration catching, revealing more in its imperfection.
Ruby’s smile illuminates the darkness. She pulls the covers up, cocooning us in warmth, and tightens her hold on me.
In this bed, in her arms, there is no armor. I am no longer untouchable.
FIFTY-ONE
RUBY
I blink awake slowly, disoriented for a moment until awareness floods back. I’m in Athena’s bed. And she’s here, curled against me, one arm draped across my waist.
My chest tightens, so sudden and overwhelming it steals my breath. Last night rushes back—the club, coming here afterward, our confessions in the darkness. The words still hang in the air, suspended like dust motes in the morning light, real and undeniable.
A week ago, I was terrified of exactly this. Now I’m here, flooded by a beautiful, fragile hope.
Athena shifts in her sleep, her face softening into a sweet smile. Her dark hair spills across the white pillow and her lips are slightly parted, her breathing deep and even. I’ve seen her commanding spaces, wielding power like it’s an extension of herself, but this unguarded version of her slays me. I study her face, allowing myself the luxury of looking without restraint. She’s beautiful in a way that transcends conventional attractiveness—all sharp angles and smooth planes, her olive skin flawless, like some Greekgoddess come to life.
