Goddess Interrupted Page 59
“Happier,” said Henry quietly. “Full.”
“Maybe,” she whispered. “Maybe not.”
They were both silent for the space of several heartbeats, and when Persephone spoke again, she leaned in toward him until her lips were inches from his. I closed my eyes.
“You deserve someone who matches you,” she said.
“What happened between us wasn’t your fault. We’re two different people, and no matter how strongly you’ve convinced yourself that I’m your one and only, it means nothing when you’re not mine.”
I held my breath. She was doing this on purpose. She was ripping him apart so— Why? So he wouldn’t be hung up on her anymore? To make room for me? His heart was broken enough as it was. How was I supposed to f ind all the pieces and put them back together if she shattered it?
“Stop,” I begged, knowing it was useless. Didn’t she know what she was doing to him? Of course she did. I’d known Henry for a year, and it was excruciatingly obvious to me. She’d known him for eons.
“Are you truly happy with Adonis?” said Henry at last.
Persephone smiled faintly. “When I wake up and the f irst thing I see is his face, I know it’s going to be a great day. That isn’t going to change no matter how much time passes.”
Henry threaded his f ingers through her hair, and Persephone made no move to stop him. “Do you ever regret leaving?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead she found his free hand and laced her f ingers in his. “Sometimes. I miss the sun—the real thing, not the one in my afterlife. I miss my mother. I miss our family. I miss the seasons. I miss change.” She pressed her lips to his knuckles. “Sometimes I even miss you. Adonis is lucky. He’s like every other soul—
he doesn’t fully realize what’s going on or that the world around him is fake. I do, and sometimes that’s enough to make a difference.”
Henry stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, and his eyes shifted from the window to her. He looked at her the way he’d looked at me the night we’d slept together, and my chest ached. Why couldn’t I wake up? “You could come back.”
Persephone gave him a sad smile. “What about Kate? You wouldn’t do that to her. I know you better than that. You might have her fooled, but I can tell how you feel about her.”
Henry was silent, and my heart beat so hard that I thought it might explode. Would he? Was he asking her to return as his queen or as his wife? Could she even do that?
Dizzy, I leaned against the window and wished with every f iber of my being that the glass would disappear and let me fall. At least then I wouldn’t have to hear this. I thought about leaving through the door, but if I couldn’t go through the window, I wouldn’t be able to walk through that, either.
“Kate is many things to me,” said Henry f inally. “But she is not you.”
I sank to the f loor and hugged my knees. I’d done so well fooling myself that this might work, that with time and a little effort, everything would be okay. But it couldn’t be.
Would he have said those things if he’d known there was a chance I might be listening? Of course not. He wasn’t cruel, but I’d heard them anyway.
“Hades…” Persephone leaned forward and closed the gap between them, touching her lips to his.
My stomach lurched, and I hid my face in my hands.
This couldn’t be happening. This was a nightmare, not the real thing. I’d fallen asleep without remembering, that was all. I would wake up soon, and when I did, Henry would be watching me sleep, and he would apologize for storming off. We would talk, he would kiss me, and everything would be all right again.
I didn’t know how long it lasted. I didn’t want to know, and by the time Persephone spoke again, I was all but tearing my hair out. Why couldn’t I go back? What part of me wanted to see this so badly that I was willing to put myself through this kind of agony?
“The thing is, I’m not me, either,” she said softly. “I’m not the person you love. That person never existed, and turning me into her in your mind—it’s destroying you. We had one good day together, and the rest of it was awful. I was miserable, and by the time I knew I didn’t want to be married to you anymore, you’d convinced yourself that you were in love with me. But you never were. You fell in love with a person who never existed.”
Tears splashed on the knees of my jeans. In a f it of desperation, I pinched the inside of my elbow hard, but I felt no pain. I was stuck.
“Tell me,” said Persephone. “Was that the kind of kiss you’ve spent the past thousand years imagining? Did your heart stop? Did the room spin and did everything else fade away?”
In the time it took for Henry to respond, I stopped breathing and lifted my head. Persephone was still in his lap, and they watched each other with such intensity that I expected him to kiss her again, but then I saw it. There was a distance between them now, as if she were pulling away. As if he were holding her at arm’s length.
As the seconds ticked by, a sliver of hope lodged itself inside of me, and I stood shakily to move closer so there would be no chance of me missing what he would say.
Except as I stepped forward, he leaned toward her again, and she didn’t stop him. My breath caught in my throat as the world dissolved around me once more, and Henry and Persephone disappeared.
I spent the rest of the night crying in bed with Pogo curled up at my side. Every half an hour or so, he would wake up long enough to lick my cheeks before falling back asleep. I wasn’t so lucky.