ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴛᴇ // $ᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇʙᴏʏ$

Chapter Forty Six

APHRODITE

"Do you ever remember feeling happy? And I don't mean feeling content or satisfied at times. I mean true happiness." I murmured to Scott. "Have you ever felt truly happy?"

He contemplated my question. "I thought I did once with Sienna. But now... it feels different. Now I'm not so sure."

I ran my hands down his back, felt the steady flow of his breath against my chest as he rested there, calming down from emotions, making my heart ache on the inside because it had once again chosen so poorly. But conversation was better than thinking about it. Conversation could help push it back because it couldn't be wanted, couldn't be taken in. "Even if you're not sure anymore, you still seem like you are, on the outside."

Scott kept his eyes closed and smiled softly as he rested on my chest, holding me down with his weight, covering me with his body because he needed the extra warmth. "Really? I've never heard that before." He said.

"You have this... odd cheerfulness about you at times. Almost like real happiness. Even while knowing what people know about you, even while seeing your physical and emotional scars. Sometimes... you sound happy." My fingertips slowly ran up his spine.

"I think I should ask if this is a compliment." He smiled.

"It is." I said quietly, staring up at the ceiling and trying to breathe properly as I continued to hold him against me, away from his demons. "Even if you're not happy you can still present yourself that way. You can still pretend. And most of us can't."

"Happiness is an illusion." He murmured, echoing my words from long ago.

"And life is unbalanced." I whispered back.

I was wishing for something I could never have, could never be allowed to have. I held my arms around him, felt the heat from his body that could only chase the chill running through mine. "You don't have to pretend." I murmured to him, trying to distract myself, trying not to feel the ache in my chest. "You can be happy."

Scott kept his eyes closed and asked. "Do you want me to be?"

Knowing the answer, my heart lurched in my chest. I told myself it was something else, because I didn't know what else to think. "Yes."

"You should redirect those wants for yourself." He said.

I closed my eyes, waited until he was falling asleep and slipping his hand into my hair before I softly whispered back. "I might not be as good at pretending as you."

I stared off into nothing as I thought back to my last night with Scott, the moment right before he fell asleep and I held him all through the night. My lungs screamed at me for breath so I took one, taking in the clammy air of the heated air conditioner of the office I had no desire to be in.

"Did you hear me, Aphrodite? Are you alright?"

I looked over at the older woman sitting in the chair opposite me, the therapist Detective Bell forced me to go to for treatment after getting a court order because he was concerned for my well-being. I refused to get counseling after my assumed rape, and Bell knew that, knew that I didn't want it and still pulled strings to continue to make me miserable. The detective didn't like me because of my attitude and unhelpfulness and got back at me with ways such as further questioning and forced therapy. Now I had to appear at this lady's office twice a week because I was labeled as a rape victim, and after two weeks since leaving Scott, I still absolutely hated it. Dr. Garrett was boring, soft spoken, and only dressed in nauseating pastel skirt suits.