Page 16 of The Perfect Matchmaking (Cupids & Goddesses #2)

“When the Convention began, I was told I was unattached, and that it set a terrible example for everyone. That the Goddess of Love not being in love, not being married, was sending the wrong message to the world, to mortals, to cupids.” Gasps and shocked exclamations replaced the cheers.

Her knuckles on the microphone were white, and her fingers screamed in pain.

But she did not relax her grip. If anything, she tightened it.

“I want to tell all of you that there is no love without freedom. And that even in love, my choice is free, and it is mine alone. I love. But I am free to make my own choices, unconstrained. Are you happy now, Zeus?”

He stood up, and she could see lightning crisscross the sky in the glass ceiling of the amphitheater. Ares and Hera jumped up with him. Chaos descended. Cupids were screaming bloody murder. Gods were demanding answers about what was happening. Hera was loudly screeching for Ares to do something.

“What can I do, mom? She doesn’t want me.” He seemed utterly perplexed by such happenstance.

“Can she have Hephaestus back, then?” Hera’s words were suddenly drowned out by laughter, and Aphrodite could see Apollo barely able to keep his seat from the guffaws.

And in the sudden lull, Hephaestus mumbled, “Mom, you know how Aphrodite just spoke of choices and all that? Well, Apollo and I kinda already made some together…”

“What do you mean together ?” More mayhem ensued as all four almost ran to the exit, arguing loudly.

Artemis and Hermes were standing, whistling and applauding.

The cupids were now chanting Aphrodite’s name; the muses were cheering.

Alone by the back wall, Demeter looked on, her shrewd green eyes narrowed.

Something tugged at Aphrodite’s conscience, the Goddess of Earth seemed too standoffish, too… something.

But as much as she was curious about what had gotten under Demeter’s normally calm and collected bonnet—unless her daughter was involved—Aphrodite focused on one person and one person alone. In the midst of it all stood Athena, her face expressionless.

Ah, yes, hello choices, meet consequences.

Aphrodite had just confessed her feelings for Athena to the entire world, and she’d also made a very public choice to not pursue said feelings. Because nobody ruled her life anymore.

Except, it did not feel like a victory. There was no exultation within her.

She had won a war. She had shed her shackles.

And yet all she wanted was to lean in and be held by strong arms and tuck her face into the warmth of that neck and inhale the maddeningly elusive scent.

And be comforted again. Be loved. Be wanted. Be devoured. She wanted so much.

And as her fate hung in balance between freedom and love right in front of her eyes, Athena turned around and left the amphitheater.

Quietly and unobtrusively, as she did all things, she removed herself from the choices available to Aphrodite, and the equilibrium was gone.

She was free. And she was Love. But she was alone.

She was wrong.

Aphrodite did not remember stepping off the stage.

She did not remember all the congratulations and all the hugs and kisses and handshakes.

She felt fragile and every touch was like a slap; she was sure she’d end up black and blue.

Tears threatened, and she blinked them away, desperate to disappear.

Then suddenly a pair of hands held hers, almost dragging her out, soon joined by another pair. She knew these two. She knew she was safe with them, despite what Sabine had pulled earlier with her perfect match arrow.

“Talk about unfair.”

She hadn’t realized she’d said it out loud until both Sabine and Abby stopped and stared at her.

Then Abby, the more practical of the duo when it came to things that mattered, bless her, pivoted into the now-familiar janitor’s closet and shut the door behind them.

It was a squeeze, but it felt oddly comfortable and she took solace in having been here with Athena.

Athena...

What had she done?

“First of all, oh my god, Dite! That was freaking amazing. I am so proud of you!” Abby clapped her hands, and her face lit up for a moment.

Then right before Aphrodite’s eyes, suddenly sobered, the cupid clasped her wife’s shoulder and effectively shook the whole of Sabine.

“And second, if Sabine shot her arrow, I’ll do something drastic!

But! I know she couldn’t have! She wouldn’t! There must have been some mistake…”

Aphrodite thought it was one of the cutest scenes she’d ever witnessed.

A cinnamon roll standing up, showing off all the pride she had in her woman.

What a wonderful, genuine connection they had.

Abby knew Sabine. Abby loved Sabine, hence Sabine could do no wrong.

It was beautiful. Misguided maybe, since Sabine, still holding the damn crown, had clearly used her arrow. The board never lied…

“Well, darling?—”

Abby stopped babbling and turned on her wife with such adorable shock, Aphrodite had to laugh.

“It’s okay, Abby. The three of us know very well that a perfect match doesn’t mean happily ever after.

Sabine did what any cupid would have done had they had the courage.

But I made my choice. Neither Zeus, nor Sabine, nor the perfect match can make me do anything.

I refuse to be with someone simply because I have to, because such are circumstances, or because whoever else deems that it must be so. ”

Abby looked at her with admiration. Sabine watched her, head inclined to the side, before leaning over and giving her an unexpected hug. Doubly unexpected because it came out of nowhere and because this was Sabine Goddard who touched nobody if she could help it.

Aphrodite opened her mouth to say so, but Sabine just shook her head.

“I did shoot my arrow. And there is a perfect match. The board does not make mistakes. And I do apologize.” Abby gasped, and Aphrodite closed her eyes as Sabine went on, “I am so very sorry that I allowed you even for a moment to believe that I would in any way force you into a relationship, after everything you’ve been through. ”

“Huh?” Her and Abby’s simultaneous exhalations would’ve been comical under any other circumstances.

“But the perfect match?” Aphrodite looked from Sabine to Abby and back.

“Is not yours. Erato, however, has a bit of a mess on her hands. I couldn’t help myself. But that is another story. Erato’s story. Though I’m sure Abby and I will feature heavily in it.” Sabine smiled enigmatically.

“You did not use your arrow on Athena and me?” She could have sworn there was a dull roar in her ears.

“No, I didn’t. You and Athena do not need any arrow assistance. Your love is strong and pure. Your choice doesn’t affect the strength of that feeling. It does affect the fate of it, but not its purity, nor its intensity. You love. You both love. It’s true and real.”

“But…” she trailed off, remembering the expression on Athena’s face right before she turned away and left the convention.

“But you did make your choice, Dite. Sadly, very publicly so.” Abby finished her sentence, and the three of them stood in silence that seemed to stretch for eons. Extending her arm a second time, Sabine held the goddess in a tight embrace and Aphrodite cried.