“Unexpected,” Persephone said. “Go on.”
“She’s the reason we don’t remember Psyche,” I said.
Persephone’s blank eyes didn’t leave mine. She blinked, over and over, and I thought she’d stopped breathing for a moment.
“I’m sorry, what?” she finally asked.
I told her about the breakfast I’d had with Aphrodite, about what she’d said to me about Psyche running away, and how she’d erased the memory and mere mention of her throughout history.
Persephone’s hand clenched so tight around the glass that it shattered, and her only reaction to it was another blink. Nostrils flaring, she took a beat of silence as it sank in, and I poured her another drink.
“This is why I should stay in the Underworld all year long,” she muttered under her breath. Her lashes hit her eyelids as she gazed my way. “Something tells me that isn’t what you’re truly upset about, in any case. This—“ she pointed to me and wiggled her hand in a circle “—feels like more rage than just Aphrodite pissing you off.”
I didn’t say anything as my fingers curled in on themselves.
“Eros, what’s really wrong?”
I settled into the chair nearest me, steepled my fingers beneath my chin, and stared into the dead fireplace. “What’s wrong is that my wife…” I could hardly get the two words out. The salutation stuck to my tongue and choked in my throat. “Mywifeis marrying another man,” I managed. “And I just ruined everything.”
Persephone sank into the couch as if if she stood any longer, her knees would give way beneath her.
“It’s her?” she asked breathlessly.
I nodded.
“You’re sure? You remembered?”
“Nearly everything,” I said. “It’s like… something she said, a dream she was having triggered my memory, and it all fell into place.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. “Gods, I’m such an idiot.”
“I doubt that,” she said.
“No, I am,” I argued. “I was so fucking mad about how much of herself she was giving up when it came to her wedding that I lost my mind. I started shouting at her in the middle of the fucking park.”
“How much did you remember?”
“I remembered seeing her for the first time, those nights together in the dark… I remembered the trials she went through after she betrayed my trust, her visiting you in the Underworld as my mother asked—“
“Jealousy is a fickle thing,” Persephone muttered.
“—I even remembered her coming back to me. The ambrosia. But still… the last thing I can see is that final day at Delphi. It’s like it just ends. We went for a hike and came back to stay the night near the temple. I remember lying beside her under the stars, holding her to sleep… and then it just… it all fades,” I finished.
I did a double-take at the look on her face then—furrowed brows, stern eyes, pursed lips.
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out why you chose to lash out and not tell her who she is,” she said.
I shot back the rest of my drink and stood to my feet. “I’m not doing that,” I said.
“Why the fuck not?” she asked, rising to her own. “You say you remember her, and you remember your past with her. Why don’t you tell her?”
“Because I don’t want to scare her,” I said. “And because…”
My voice trailed, my hands bracing against the counter.
“Because I don’t want her to love me simply because of who we once were. I want her to love me,” I said. “This is a new age. Things aren’t the same. I want this to be her choice, not getting left atop a mountain for some monster like the last time. I want to be sure of that before I tell her anything.”
“Such a romantic,” she cooed.
