The Spirits of the Universe (PJO)

Chapter 66--My Worst Enemy

If this were a normal conversation with a normal friend, I would've flipped the lights on.

But this wasn't a normal conversation. And with a friend? No, it'd been too long to call her something like that. 

My entire body was shaking with anger, but my gaze was fixed blankly towards the bed. This could've been a fake—a mere hallucination of the person I thought about the most during my most vulnerable times. It was certainly possible. I hadn't slept well for a while now. Or it could've been a dream—my whole journey to the pub and up until now could've been a figment of my imagination, made up by my demigod consciousness. It was the only explanation.

But I could feel my nails biting into the palm of my fisted hands, and my jaw was clenched painfully. This was too real to be a dream. N was here, in the darkness, just like old times.

But these weren't old times. 

"It's been a long while," I agreed curtly, then promptly ignored her.

Moonlight streamed through the magic window, dimly illuminating the entire room—except the bed, from which the light seemed to curve away, to my chagrin.

At the far side of my room sat my backpack, along with a few sets of clothes and some boxed food. That's it. After all, I hadn't had time to pack a lot when I ran away, and after weeks of questing, I'd run out of my meager supply of ambrosia.

Still, I dutifully walked over and started shoving stuff into my backpack. I could feel N's gaze on my back.

"Don't be like that," N said in a way that irritated me—like everything was normal. "Shouldn't you say 'hi' after so long?"

I didn't say anything, and she seemed to pick up that I wasn't really in the mood to have a conversation. She trailed off, leaving the room in awkward silence.

I thought that would be it, but a few seconds later, a pair of slender arms slid across my shoulders and embraced my neck while a body pressed my back. 

It could've been an enemy. But no. It was the one scenario I'd been yearning for months now—and been dreading for the past week.

"C'mon, Percy," N said in a whisper her breath tickling my ear. "I know you're angry, but can we talk about it?"

Her voice was angelic, and she exuded a scent of vanilla that made my brain stop working. I'd been wanting her to appear for months. But I couldn't fall for it. 

I pushed her arms off of me roughly. "Not now. A lot has happened, and I don't have time. You would've known this if you hadn't abandoned me for two months."

"A month and two weeks, actually . . ."

"My mistake," I said sarcastically. "Two weeks less. That makes things much better. You could hardly call that a short vacation—one you stepped out without telling me about it, of course."

"Percy, please," N begged me. She'd been shocked at my actions, but now she hurried to say, "There's just been a lot going on, but I promise, I'm back for good this time—"

"Did your immortal husband learn about our relationship?"

"What? Husband? No, Percy . . . you've got this all wrong."

I held up my hand, cutting her off. My mind was traveling at light speed, and I was saying stuff I barely had even processed. "Actually, this is making a lot of sense. You spend your days with your husband, and then disappear during the nights to spend time with me. No wonder why you can't trust me with your identity—you're worried that I'll ruin your marriage!"

"Percy, listen to me. These accusations are not fair. I've never been married before. Please believe me." Her tone was full of hurt, and tears seemed a moment away from spilling out of her eyes. 

But this could've easily been an act. I'd faced many two-faced immortals before, but I'd thought N wasn't one of them.

Now, I wasn't too sure.

"Believe you?" I asked with a dry chuckle. "Do you know what else I've had trouble believing? That you actually love me. That you weren't just treating me like your little plaything, like every other immortal does with their lovers. I thought I could trust you, N. You have nerve to show up in front of me after all you did."

My gut wrenched in pain as I watched tears trickle down her cheeks. I know this is the right thing to do . . . but why does it hurt so much?

Why was my heart aching when it had already been broken into pieces?

N opened her mouth to respond, a million words at the tip of her tongue. 

This was it. 

Finally, after so much pain, so much suffering, and so much confusion, I would get closure.

It wouldn't be enough to set things right . . . but it would be enough—

N froze. "You have visitors."

Then the love of my life disappeared out of my sight once again.