KEEPSAKE

chapter thirty seven

37 WHAT LOVE FEELS LIKE

ITS BEEN THREE DAYS SINCE HERMES LEFT ARTEMIS TO LIVE ON HER OWN.

        And like clockwork, she finds herself in a heavy predicament. Why the hell did Hermes buy her cookie mix and not show her how to bake them! It's probably the most grueling experience she's ever been in.

        Standing in the middle of her kitchen with flour covering her from head to apron, spent.

She throws the cookie mix powder into the large bowl as instructed by the tiny writing on the box but, still, she's stuck at a roadblock. Having no idea how she got flour out or why when flour is not at all mentioned on the box.

With a groan, she throws the empty box across the kitchen, landing in the studio apartments lounge area. She leans on her palms on the counter and blows a raspberry in mid-air.

"I hate cooking," she groans and decides on eating yogurt from the fridge.

She's still adjusting to everything new in this new life of hers. Sometimes she'll find herself trying to heal or inflict plagues on wide districts. The latter only when she's out in the city at night and someone calls her a colorful word.

The job at Arrow Range is like a walk in the the park for Artemis. All day long, three days a week she teaches people how to use a bow and arrow. It's the easiest thing imaginable and it's the Artemis of middle-class jobs. The pay could be better, but she's not worried about that aspect. If she gets evicted from this less than satisfying apartment, it won't be a big loss.

All of the pieces of the puzzle seem to be fitting into place. Only one thing is missing along with a place in Artemis' chest that throbs without relief.

Her heart is a constant reminder of the loss she faced with Adonis' death. Every night she'll find herself tossing and turning, hoping this is all a nightmare. She'd throw all of this away in trade for Adonis. She'd rather be back in Zeus' palace, caged up than separated from him for eternity.

She, herself, was shocked when those three words that are so much more than words fell from her lips.

I love you.

That scene keeps replaying in her head. Her confession of love. His last breath. That last damn kiss that she'd risk anything to feel one more time.

And then the voices in her head, the ones that tell her how guilty she should feel. That it's her fault. That she should've avenged Adonis and killed Zeus with her own two hands.

The first tear drops into the cookie mix. She flounces away from the kitchen and sits onto the couch. Covering her face in her hands and letting all the tears and whimpers fall. With no audience, she lets no remorse on her cries of sadness and self-pity.

     A pound filters into the room. A knock, more like. On the door.

        Artemis swiftly rubs at her eyes and gives herself a mini pep talk to calm down and keep her breathing at the average rate.

         She walks up to the door, holds onto the knob, takes a deep slow breath and turns the handle.

Standing outside the door, wearing a pair of jeans and a white shirt with a utility jacket around his shoulders is Adonis.