Aphrodite's Choice

Chapter 60 – The End of a Misunderstanding

Aphrodite opened her eyes with difficulty. She was weeping. Her head felt like it might just shatter. Her heart was almost beating out of her chest. The memories that were sealed unleashed as though a long-standing dam had been crashed. Little time seemed to have passed between her recalling these memories, perhaps a few seconds. But Hephaestus was bleeding, and Ares was enraged by the fact that his attack had missed his mark.

“Don’t dodge like the rat you are, Hephaestus,” yelled Ares, “Fight me!”

Hephaestus ignored him and turned to look at her. He was concerned. He should be worried about himself; he is the one bleeding, thought Aphrodite. Tears stung her eyes. They never seemed to stop. She bowed her head and sniffled.

Hephaestus ran over to her. He swung his arm in Ares’ direction, crushing him to the floor as he made his way to her. “Aphrodite,” he said, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

“I…” she took his hand and straightened up. She looked behind him to see Ares pressed to the floor with a large boulder. It was evident that it wasn’t done in order to kill or injure, just to hold him in place.

She was surprised. She knew Hephaestus was strong. But every god had their own skill where they were undefeatable. Ares’ was fighting, he was the God of War. She hadn’t expected Hephaestus to pin him down so easily.

“Get this damn thing off me!” yelled Ares, trying to upturn the boulder. Ares had lost it. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, shame faced. But Hephaestus saw none of it. He didn’t seem to care. He was looking at her with concern. Only her.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked.

“Uh, no,” she said.

“I am glad I reached on time,” he said, relieved. He wrapped the cloth around her with tenderness, making sure she was warmly covered. Her tears, which had finally dried, looking at Ares’ comic defeat, returned with a vengeance at his gentleness. They streamed down her cheeks.

“Aphrodite, what’s wrong?” he asked, worried again.

“I…” she stammered through her tears. The damned tears wouldn’t leave her alone. It was difficult for her even to breathe, at this rate.

“You should go inside,” he said, “Take care of yourself. I will take care of Ares on my own, alright?”

“No, please,” she said, sobbing.

“What?” he asked.

“Please, I have something to say,” she said between her sobs, “I need to say it.”

“Right now? Right here?” he asked, concerned, “Is it absolutely necessary?”

“Yes, it is!” she snapped, “Will you just listen to me?” She grabbed the front of his shirt in her fist as she shuddered with sobs. The overwhelming memories and her emotions were killing her. She needed to say something, anything. She looked up at him, to see him looking at her, his grey eyes etched with worry.

Though he was taller and broader, his eyes hadn’t changed. He was still the same young boy she had met on the island of Limnos. She wondered how much pain had it caused him when she couldn’t recognize him?

“Hephaestus,” she called his name.

“Yes?” he said, ever so patiently.

“Why did you leave me without even a goodbye?” she asked, trembling.

“What?” he said, confused, “But I did tell you I was going to leave, and you even bid me goodbye.”

She knew he had always tried to keep his promise. Even when he realized she didn’t remember him; he had tried to build a new relationship with her. While she had remained unaware and done her very best to push him away. He had always stayed by her side.

“I am not talking about today, you idiot,” she said, still sobbing, “Before, at the island.”

He understood her immediately. She saw him hesitating. “Aphrodite…” he said, softly.

“Why did you leave Limnos?!” she snapped, “I, like a fool, forgot everything. I should have been mad at you, but I couldn’t remember why. You knew everything, and yet.” She hit him on his chest without conviction or energy.

He stood there, allowing her to cry. Her soft fists landing on his chest. When her arms fell to her sides in exhaustion, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. A silent promise to never, ever let her go again.