Truths and Lies Duet

I lean forward and wrap my arms around her. My hand grips hers on the hilt of the knife. Nuzzling her hair with my nose, I inhale her sweet and sweaty scent. I kiss her hair and murmur my words against her head.

“Ready, zoí mou?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

I use my other hand to cover the top of the hilt of the knife and drive it forward. Her hand flexes beneath mine, but she doesn’t squirm away. Together, we push the blade past his flesh and into his chest. Together, we pierce his heart. Together, we breathe raggedly as we watch the life quietly drain from the monster in our lives.

Releasing the knife, I hook my arms around her middle and pull her away from him. I walk her outside so Adrian can deal with the body. She turns in my arms, sobbing against my chest. I stroke her hair and kiss her head. The waves crash down below.

“It’s over now, moró mou. You can be happy.”

She pulls away and places her blood-splattered hands on my cheeks. Her blue eyes are watery as she regards me. “I am happy, Kostas. With you, never doubt that.”

“I love you,” I murmur. “My beautiful, brave, fiery wife.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible,” I growl, nipping at her juicy lip.

A smile tugs at her lips. “Then prove it.”

“Anything.”

“Give me a piggyback down to the beach.”

All those stairs. All. Those. Fucking Stairs.

“Aww, I’m only teasing,” she says, laughing. “You should have seen your face!”

With a growl, I scoop her into my arms.

I carry her down all those goddamn stairs. Every last one of them. And when I’ve fucked her in the warm sea and made her scream my name in pleasure, I’ll carry her back up all those motherfucking steps. Every grueling one.

I’ll carry her anywhere.

To the ends of the earth. Through heaven and hell. And into the next life.

She’s fucking mine forever.

Talia

One Year Later

“Mommy, what’s this?” Zoe asks, pointing at the exquisite fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

With me almost two weeks overdue, we decided to drive over to the Pérasma Hotel with Kostas today to hang out, swim a little, and get some sun while being waited on.

When Zoe asked if we could go for a walk, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to try to walk my overly-pregnant behind into labor. Big mistake. Because now I’ve plopped myself onto the wicker lounge chair to relax for a minute, and there’s a good possibility I may never get back up.

Not wanting to tell her what she’s pointing to is Bernini’s Rape of Proserpina, I go with a more childproof answer. “It’s a statue of a man and a woman.”

“Not just any man and woman,” a masculine voice says, catching my attention. I glance over and spot my sexy husband sauntering over. Unlike the first time I saw him in this very spot, dressed casual in khakis and a button-down shirt, today he’s sporting his power suit. I would take him either way, but truth be told, my favorite Kostas is the one without any clothes on in our bed.

Kostas picks Zoe up and she squeals in excitement. “This statue is of Pluto and Proserpina,” he tells her as if she can understand. He always talks to her like she’s an adult. It’s oddly adorable.

“Pluto?” she questions. “Like the doggy?”

He gives me a confused look.

“Pluto is the cute puppy on Disney,” I explain.

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, this Pluto was a very powerful god.” He gives me a knowing look. “He stole Proserpina and brought her into the Underworld. And because he loved her so much, he tricked her into staying by tempting her with delicious food. She, of course, took the bait and was sentenced to remain with him for the rest of eternity.”

I grin at his version of the story. It was my version. The safe version. The one that made Pluto out to be the bad guy and kept Proserpina innocent. But as I look at my handsome husband holding our daughter in his arms, I realize my view of the story has changed. That I’ve changed.

“He didn’t trick her,” I say out loud.

Kostas’s eyes gleam with excitement. “No?”

“No, that would be giving him too much credit and her not enough,” I admit. “I think you were right before. If she didn’t want to stay, she wouldn’t have eaten the seeds. But she did so because she wanted to.”

I attempt to stand, but my big belly weighs me down.

“Moró mou,” Kostas says. “Let me help you.” He sets Zoe down, who runs over to the fountain to dip her hand in the water.

As he helps pull me into a standing position, my stomach tightens, and I cringe slightly at the pain that shoots down my back. “I made Proserpina out to be the damsel in distress,” I tell him. “The victim, but maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was just scared and he helped her come to the realization of what she already knew.”