“We’ve fought already,” Geri said. “Plenty. And we’re still here.”
“I let her go once,” Apollo added, his voice quieter now. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
Aphrodite leaned back slowly, considering. “Words are easy, especially from you, sun god. So tell me this—” She turned back to Geri. “Do you love him because he fills a need, or because of who he is? Because there’s a difference.”
Geri looked over at Apollo and the warmth shining in his blue eyes. She didn’t hesitate.
“Because of who he is,” she said. “And despite who he is, too.”
Aphrodite blinked, then nodded slowly. “Better. Let’s continue.”
The goddess of love’s questions came like waves—steady, elegant, but relentless. She wanted to know everything: how they handled disagreements, what sacrifices they’d made for one another, what they feared most about their bond. Geri tried her best to answer honestly, but there were moments she stumbled, grasping for words to describe feelings that still felt raw and new. At times, she felt completely out of her depth, like she’d wandered into a debate with no script and every wrong answer could cost her everything.
Through it all, Apollo never faltered. He spoke with an ease and steadiness that made Geri marvel. Even when Aphrodite pressed him about his past lovers or asked him to define love without using poetry or charm, he responded with quiet conviction and unwavering sincerity. Geri found herself watching him in those moments, realizing just how much his confidence reassured her.Of course, he’s calm,she thought.He’s lived for millennia. He’s a god.But it wasn’t just time that gave him that certainty, it was how sure he was ofthem. And somehow, that gave her the strength to keep going.
Aphrodite leaned back in her chair. “One last question,” she said. “When the passion fades—and itwillfade—what will be left to hold you together?”
The room stilled. Geri glanced at Apollo, heart pounding.
He answered first, his voice calm but firm. “Respect. Friendship. Loyalty. I know her down to the bones now. And I want to keep learning about her, even when it’s hard.”
“We’ve already been through hell,” Geri swallowed, her throat tight. “Not just figuratively. And we’re still standing. We might burn hot, but we’ve also learned to stay steady. I think…I think we’d still choose each other. Even on the quiet days.”
Aphrodite’s expression didn’t change. “Well,” she stood suddenly, “I have to go. Council business. Good luck.” And with a shimmer of light and the faint scent of roses, she vanished.
Geri blinked. “What thefuckwas that?” she muttered, turning to Apollo. “I don’t think she believed in us.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Apollo pulled her close, lips twitching in a faint smile. “We believe in us.”
Chapter Three
Apollo
“You’re hopeless, Apollo!” Grannie laughed, brushing dirt from her hands as she surveyed the garden bed in the Asphodel Meadows.
“Who, me?” Apollo gasped, leaning on his spade and blinking innocently. “Don’t say that, Grannie.”
Grannie gave him a playful squint. “Well, I never knew gods couldn’t do everything. Imagine that—a sun god who can’t tell the difference between a weed and a tulip!”
Apollo glanced down at the limp green stalks he’d just uprooted and winced. “They looked suspicious!”
“Oh, you gods,” Grannie said, shaking her head with mock exasperation. “All that power and not a lick of sense when it comes to gardening.”
Apollo straightened up and sniffed. “I’m excellent at other things, you know.”
“I’m sure you are, dear,” Grannie said, giving his arm a teasing pat. “But maybe leave the plants alone next time.”
Apollo sighed, tossing the stalks aside as Grannie chuckled and bent back to her planting.
He watched Grannie and couldn’t help noticing how much of Geri he saw in her—the same spark in her eyes, the same fierce stubbornness. He remembered how gutted Geri had been when Grannie passed and how he’d tried everything to help her through it, even when he didn’t have a clue what to say. They’d been through some heavy shit together, but somehow it had pulled them closer. What started as pure, blazing lust had turned into something way bigger, a bond strong enough to last forever.
It still amazed him that Geri hadn’t lost her Grannie completely and got to have these moments with her. Hades had given her a rare deal—visits to the Underworld so she could see her grandmother whenever she wanted. It wasn’t the same as having Grannie up top, alive and kicking, but it was better than nothing. And as Apollo stood there, listening to the older woman laugh, he figured that was what counted. And honestly, that felt like a pretty solid win for all the chaos in their lives.
Apollo glanced over his shoulder, eyes finding his mate on the far side of the garden. Geri was crouched over a patch of soil, gently pressing new flowers into the earth. But she wasn’t really seeing them—that faraway look on her face said it all. Through the bond, he could feel the tension humming inside her, like a bowstring pulled too tight.
Grannie caught where his gaze had landed and let out a knowing little hum. “She’s still worried, huh?”
“Yeah,” Apollo admitted, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “The Council hasn’t decided yet, and they won’t even tell me when they’re gonna meet to make a call.”
