The bed is perfectly made, looking like something in a catalog for rich people, right down to the dozen pillows taking up the top third. I hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at it the other night. It’s luxurious and so perfectly Aphrodite that I shake my head…and pause. Is that the shower running?
I walk slowly across the bedroom, that sick feeling in my chest getting stronger. There is no way my wife would be in the shower at the time when I said I’d be here. Not after today. It’s too vulnerable a position. Even if she meant to seduce me, she’d do it in another way. I’m sure of it.
Feeling slightly absurd but not able to shake off my caution, I crack the door and push it slowly open. The shower is a monstrosity, a huge tiled beast that would probably fit five people without crowding.
My wife sits on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest and her head down, her wet hair creating dark rivers down her bare back. A bruise has blossomed on her hip, turning her pale skin a rainbow of purple and black, fading to green and yellow on the edges.
She looks…small.
I don’t remember moving away from the door. It’s like I blink and I’m back in the kitchen, my head swimming and my chest too tight. I don’t even pause to think. I drag out my phone and call Pandora.
She answers almost immediately. “What?”
“Help.”
Instantly, all joking is gone from her voice. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“Aphrodite.” I’m whispering and that’s fucking ridiculous, but I can’t seem to stop. “I brought her dinner. Someone tried to shoot her this morning, and now she’s in her shower and she looks so fucking small, and I think she might be crying.”
“What?”
“She—”
“No, I heard you. I’m just processing.” She curses softly. “Damn it, Theseus, are you really hiding in her apartment instead of comforting her right now?”
“I don’t know how to comfort someone.”
Her tone goes soft. “Look, I’d come, but I think that just might complicate the situation tonight.” She hesitates. “You should call Adonis.”
It’s a token of how fucked my head is right now that I don’t even question if that’s a good idea or not. “You’re right. I’ll call him.” Now it’s my turn to pause. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.” She gives a choked laugh. “And don’t you dare hide and wait for him to show up. Call him and then go, like, hug her or something.”
She might punch me in the face if I try, but at least then she won’t be crying. The thought of her crying is like someone shoved a piece of glass into my chest, and it grinds against my heart with each beat. I don’t fucking get it, not when a week ago I was ready to kill her myself.
I don’t want her to cry.
“Come by tomorrow. She’ll probably be happy to see you, especially if we fuck this up.” I hang up without waiting for Pandora’s response. She might agree, or she might argue just to argue because I’m the one who made the suggestion.
I call Adonis next, barely waiting for him to answer to cut in, “Someone tried to kill Aphrodite today and she’s kind of fucked up and I think she’s freaking out.” I’m speaking too fast, but it was one thing to patch her up in the immediate aftermath of the attack. It’s totally another to deal with the emotional fallout now. I’m shit at comfort. I punch shit and kill things. I don’t hug and cuddle and know the right words to say when someone just survived an attempted murder for the first time. “She needs you. We need you.”
A pause. When he speaks, he’s totally in control. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” His voice goes low and cold. “Because after we take care of Eris, you’re going to explain to me why you knew this happened and didn’t say a single fucking word until now.” He hangs up, which is just as well. I don’t have an answer for that. After last night, reminding him that we’re not actually on the same side feels like a lie.
If anything, I’m more conflicted than ever. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. I have my path. I’ve never strayed. I have no reason to, not when Minos has given me everything I need.
Except…
No. No use thinking about that now. Adonis will take less than twenty minutes to get here, and if Aphrodite’s still crying in the shower and I’m standing out here, wringing my hands, it will be a fight I’m not sure I can win.