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“Where is Demeter?” Melia asked, easing the tension building on Elektra’s side of the table.
Persephone shrugged, having just shoved the last large bite into her mouth a second before. She chewed slowly, thinking how best to bring up the subject of Pelops.
In the end, she decided to just ask them outright.
“Have you seen Pelops yet?” She kept her voice casual, acting as if she didn’t care whether they even answered or not. Though they both knew she cared deeply.
“No.”
“Have you grown tired of you new husband already? What will they say about us! Married for less than a week and already seeking out another man’s embrace.” Elektra sighed dramatically, bringing a hand to her forehead.
Persephone rolled her eyes and ignored them both, their stares burning into her, opting to study the berry stains on her fingertips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to see him,” Melia said.
“Always a good idea to fuck him, though.” Elektra winked.
“Will you stop making jokes about her life? You know how she feels, yet you constantly poke fun about her hardships. It’s—”
“Fine,” Elektra said harshly. She turned to Persephone and said, “I saw Pelops yesterday. Before we came here.”
Melia eyed Persephone’s reaction to this new information, her mouth gaping slightly.
“Where?” Persephone asked, too eager to be casual.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. Where?”
“Theagora, purchasing what looked to me like an unusually smallamphoraof wine,” Elektra said, gauging Persephone’s reaction before continuing, “with an okay-looking woman.”
“Elektra!” Melia said, scolding her elder sister. “Why would you say that to her?” She hissed through her teeth.
Persephone sat up straight in her seat. Theagorawith another woman. It was too soon. Did he wake up, not see her right away, and go searching for a replacement?
Deflating against the back of her chair, Persephone realized that wasn’t the case. He didn’t remember her, so of course he had found another to occupy his time. It couldn’t be true that he didn’t want her any more if he didn’t even know who she was.
“Maybe it was his sister,” Elektra said, snapping at Melia.
“He doesn’t have one,” Persephone said. “Was she pretty?”
“She wasn’t ugly.”
“So, she was pretty.”
“Fine! She was beautiful!” Elektra said. “She had long dark hair wrapped like a crown around her head with beautiful full lips that I wanted to smash my mouth into just to feel. Are you happy now?” Elektra got up from the table and paced, terribly reminiscent of the last time they all sat in here with Demeter in the position as Elektra. “I understand that you’re upset he’s already moved on, but he died. He died, Persephone.” She slammed her hands on the table, wincing at the ferocity of it and calmed her expression as she looked at Persephone. “I think death probably changes people a great deal.”
Persephone opened her mouth to retort, but Elektra was not finished.
“And why does it matter?” She was getting worked up again, her voice rising to almost a yell. “You’re married! To a very handsome king who looks like he could give you at least twenty orgasms just by looking at you the right way. And he’s looking at you, Persephone. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. I watched you two at the wedding; when you didn’t look like you were going to blow chunks all over the room you both had dreamy sex eyes. Him, especially,” Elektra said breathlessly. She was too busy reprimanding Persephone to remember to breath while she spoke. “And another thing! Even if your husband didn’t look at you like he wanted to burn your clothes right off your body,” Persephone blushed at her words, knowing how true they were, “it is Pelops’ life. You cannot decide that you’ve made the wrong decision and interrupt his life. He is only alive again thanks to you and if you go to him,” she shook her head, “Hades will murder him in front of you. And he will be dead, again. This time it will be forever.” Elektra sat back down and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Melia gave her a small clap of approval and reached over to grab her hand in solidarity. When they both faced Persephone again, her face was wet with tears and snot dripping down her chin and onto the table.
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, unable to speak through the pain in her stomach. It felt like someone had taken a burning log from the hearth and placed it in her stomach, the flame gutted but the heat remaining. Burning her insides from her chest to her throat. Sobs poured out of her, saliva dripping onto her lap as she looked down and hid her face behind her hands.
“I—” have to go, she finished her thought and ran from the cottage. Flying past the flowers and vines snaking along the wall of the house, and through the gate. She lost her footing as she crossed over the threshold of the gate, tumbling down the hill head first.
Green grass and a paling pink sky blurring after one another as she rolled until they blended into one blurry, pale grey. She gained enough speed in her tumble that when she reached the plateau at the bottom, she kept rolling until she slammed into a tree at her stomach. Her body wrapping around the base of the tree, her breath knocked out of her.
