Olives, Saltwater, and Honey

2

My father unraveled quickly after my mother’s death. He barely ate and did nothing but sulk in silence. And although I tried my hardest to be as strong as possible for him, for us, and although I tried to be normal, and make his favorite dishes for him, he could not find it in him to look at me. Not a passing glance, not even a quick shift of his eyes.

Every night I grieved for not one parent but two.

And then one morning I awoke to my father’s touch.

"Patera?" I whispered groggily.

"I have to talk to you my daughter." He muttered his words gently.

He led me to the kitchen. As my eyes landed on a familiar figure my heart picked up its pace, my breathing became shallow. A very old and very well-known and rich man named Permenides was sitting at my kitchen table. He and my father had been acquaintances and I had met him quite a few times before.

But I already knew what was coming. The sharp burn of bile rose in my throat as my stomach twirled around in my body.

"Sit down." My father ordered.

Although his voice was stern, I could see that he was just as scared as I was.

"Eos, you are nearing your twelfth year. I have decided that you are to marry Permenides. We have discussed your dowry, and all the fine details have been figured out. You are to be wed 7 dawns from now." His voice quavered.

"Patera... Please don't do this." I whispered, tears pooling around my eyes.

"You are of age, you bleed, and I cannot support you Eos." His eyes were filled with ice.

My eyes shifted to Permenides who sat stone still, his lips curled into a smug smile.

"No. I will not." I said sternly, my gaze fixed on the table.

"Eos... I can't look at you. You remind me too much of my wife, you have her eyes, her lips, her spirit. How do you expect me to survive when you plague me! Every time I turn you are there. I feel as though her ghost is following me around, but it's not. It's only you." Tears streamed down his face.

And although the only thing in the world I wanted was to be in my home, in my room, with what little I had left of my life and family, I knew in that moment, I had to leave. Contrary to popular belief, it is possible to die of a broken heart. My father was wilting away, pathetic and dying. His heart was slowing, his brain was malfunctioning, he couldn't eat, couldn't sleep no one can convince me that he was not dying. And although his words cut into my skin leaving open wounds that I could've swore made me bleed, I didn't cry. I didn't whimper. I didn't fight.

"Ok."

I tried to touch his hand, to show him that it was ok, but he pulled away from my touch.

"I need a moment." His face was pinched, and splotched red.

He rose from the table and left the room while he still had most of his dignity intact. The silence that surrounded Permenides and I was suffocating. My breath came in quick shallow gulps.

"I am looking forward to our life together." Permenides spoke for the first time that morning.

I smiled sheepishly. His eyes stayed on me and it was very hard not squirm under his gaze.

"I am making you uncomfortable." He said matter-of-factly.

"No, I am just a bit hungry." As if on cue my stomach grumbled.

He smiled, "As am I, how about some gruel?"

He wanted to me too cook for him? We had just met, just became betrothed, and I was already his slave? I pushed my chair back gingerly. I took some bread that had been soaking and began to reduce it.

"You cook, and you're quiet. How lovely it will be to have you as a wife." He chuckled.

He grabbed my wrist as I mashed the reducing bread. He pulled me onto his lap and smelled my hair.

"I have always had quite the fancy for you Eos. You are very beautiful. I know you will be obedient and serve me." He kissed my neck.

A whimper escaped from my mouth. I did not like Permenides. I did not like his voice, his hands holding me tight against him, his hot breath smothering me.

"The gruel..." I whispered.

He pushed me off of his lap, catching me off balance causing me to land with a thud on the floor.

My father then walked in, looking much more composed than when he left.

"Eos, get off of the floor. Your food is burning." He sniffed.

I hurried to the pot and stirred what once was bread and now was gruel. I added a spoonful of honey, split the gruel into three bowls and served it.

"I am looking forward to this betrothal." Permenides nodded to my father.

I pushed my food around my bowl having lost my appetite.