Dionysus (Greek God Romance Book 1) (18 page)

There was also the issue of the distance that was growing between them. Rebecca saw it in bursts and driblets here and there, but it was there. Dionysus would be distant from her, far away elsewhere with someone else. She even saw him look at her with eyes that were meant for another. She realized who it had to be as she read the book Apollo had left her—finishing it took about a month. It was Ariadne, the woman that first stole his heart. He never spoke about her, then again, she couldn’t hold that
completely
against him having never shared her failed loves either.

Rebecca could feel the doom coming. He wasn’t hers, all hers, and she could not live a life with a man in that state of mind. The blowup would happen, it was inevitable. There were glimpses when she knew she was everything to him. But he always everything to her. She had never found this, not once in her life.

Rebecca would never admit it until there was a commitment or a ring on her finger, but she had never been in a long term relationship. They had always been lost in the wind. She traveled city to city, man to man, finding a home in none. But here. . . here she was at home. Whether  a goddess or a monster or an unknown came and took her away, she could
finally
say she had a home, had a life worth dying for—
better yet, worth living for.

She needed him to be hers, needed him to let go of his fears, of his disappointments, of his scars. She knew this to be harder than just telling him that, wanting that, willing that in her heart. Every day, every minute, every painful second that she saw another woman in his eyes, she lost a little of herself, a little of her self respect.

Rebecca would blow. A ticking time bomb and one that was much more dangerous than anything Hera could throw at Dionysus. For if Dionysus lost Rebecca, he would no longer be a god, an immortal; he would become a specter of a man, of a god, of an immortal—roaming the dark attic of his mind, endlessly.

HE WAS JUST STUPID

Dionysus wasn’t blind. He was privy to Rebecca’s emotions, her feelings, her desires. He was just stupid. A stupid god who couldn’t let go. He tried, tried to rid himself of the haunting of an ex-lover, every day for thousands of years; and yet, Ariadne occupied a crook of his mind that he never abolished, never vanquished
that
demon. It only grew stronger as each day passed and more alcohol was consumed.

He caught himself, from time to time, caught the look Rebecca would give him. But he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t have it, he had been robbed of love and bliss and detested it on a molecular level.

Dionysus took advantage of Rebecca. He knew it. She allowed him to be sour, to dwell without comment, but he knew, somewhere in there, that she would not allow this to continue. They had to be each others first and foremost, then everyone else. And there certainly was no room for an ex-lover. And one that had abandoned him?
Terrible.
It was the god in him that he liked to blame for his dwelling on this. Everywhere one went there was a god or goddess dwelling on the past. He was guilty as charged and kept on being so.

But an odd two words came to mine, rhythmic in their tone,
tick tock, tick tock.
He couldn’t bear losing Rebecca. He also couldn’t bear losing the memory of what he had with Ariadne and how it was ripped away from him. And he was dumbfounded on how to return to being the man he once was: The lover, the dancer, the center of the party, the Greek god who roamed with humans and loved them unconditionally. The god who saw the good in every man and woman that a sliver existed in.

All stripped away, all taken by one goddess, one bitch he could never touch. He yelled, “
Hera!”
Then looked around, no one answered back for he was by himself, by his lonesome in his abode thinking of all the things he shouldn’t be concerning himself with and not concentrating on the one he should be, the only one that mattered:

Rebecca.

HELLO, HERA. HELLO, ZEUS.

Rebecca and Dionysus went out for a walk. He decided it was time to show Hera her suspicions were fruitless. He had talked a bold, cock of the walk style, but Rebecca knew better. He was shaking slightly beside himself—no matter how many times he crowed.

Their moods could be best described as somber, for Rebecca was ready to explode. She had not been a jealous woman, never, but Dionysus’ dwelling on a lost love had pushed her to the limit. He was becoming more and more distant, rather than more and more affectionate and she wouldn’t have it. No way. No how. She was
not
going to end up in a loveless relationship like the one she had seen growing up.

And that’s when the light bulb went on, the epiphany trumpeted into her mind. She had to stop letting Hera and him dictate this relationship. It was time to give Dionysus a surprise he would not care for. To be fair, she did not care for it terribly, either.

The funny thing about this time, this meeting with Zeus and Hera was that Dionysus and Rebecca
actually
had a purpose to their walk that was respectable and understanding. Rebecca had wanted to see the amazing garden of ancient plants and small animals that Demeter kept. Well, to go into that particular garden, one had to pass by Hecate’s Shack. This usually wasn’t an issue but if Dionysus wasn’t there. . . Hecate could play games, and no one wanted to play games with an ancient goddess of sorcery.

They headed that direction which was south of Heph’s Shop of Wonders. And right before reaching the garden, they stumbled upon Hera and Zeus for the third time.

Dionysus said, “Hello, Hera. Hello, Zeus.” Rebecca joined in, “Hello, Hera. Hello, Zeus.” They were practiced and ready.

Hera positively beamed. “Ah, we bump into this young couple again, eh, Zeus?”

He shone his brilliant smile upon Rebecca. “Would we put such a label on you two?”

And instead of speaking, Rebecca chose to not respond, to let Dionysus speak.

Dionysus stared at Rebecca, after some time he realized she wasn’t going to speak. He said, “Uh. . . um. . . uh, um, we’re—we’re going to Demeter’s garden.”

Hera tilted her head, suspicion lofting around her. She could smell it, breath each lie in. The funny thing, obviously being, that Dionysus was not lying. She said, “Really?” Then looked to Rebecca who simply nodded.

Zeus asked, “What will you be doing there?”

“Well—” Dionysus said, scratching at his head. He stared at Rebecca again, and she stared blankly back with a mocking smile. Realizing too much time had elapsed without responding, he hastily said, “I—I’ve. . . No, no, we’re, no, right,
I
am escorting her so that no games are played by Hecate.”

Zeus nodded, a smug all-knowing sort of look captured his face. “She is an old one.” He stepped forward, grabbing Rebecca’s hand and holding it in his. “
You
must be careful.”

Hera’s temper boiled over; she had enough of this flirting Zeus displayed blatantly in front of her. “
Enough!”

Zeus scowled and turned his head towards her. “This is why
we
don’t go out more often.”

“
With me?”
Indignation strangling and gripping every word, she fumed and seethed. “Look at you, you old fool, you are embarrassing yourself. They are
clearly
together. To think, you could be
so
bold—”

Ignoring everything she said but what he wanted to hear, Zeus asked, “Are you two seeing each other?”

Rebecca turned to Dionysus with a grin while horror had him mumbling incomprehensibly. She said, “He
is
my lover.”
Ewwww,
she thought.
My lover? Did I just say that?
She cursed herself and the bleeding effect of the old denizens of Olympus.

Zeus stammered, “Well—I—”

“Why haven’t you brought this to our attention before, Dionysus?” Hera said, “We could’ve evaded
such
unpleasantness.”

Dionysus gawked. Rebecca felt bad for what she had done, but was convinced that it
had
to be done.

Rebecca said, “Have a great day you two.”

Hera opened her mouth then closed it. She had been hindered on the path of ridicule she was going to take with Dionysus. She
knew
he would say nothing. Zeus would say nothing. And she would get endless pleasure out of it. The mortal stopping her from being able to enjoy and savor
that,
enraged her and made her skin boil with irritation.

Zeus said, “Well, my dear, let us not keep the young couple.” He still winked at Rebecca as if to say, “You know, in case you didn’t know, I’m around.”

Hera sneered but said nothing.

Rebecca said, “Good-bye, Zeus. Good-bye, Hera.”

Hera stormed away having lost the opportunity. She
would
make sure that Rebecca’s death was brutal and witnessed by all. She vowed it within her mind.

When they had gotten a few blocks away, Dionysus said, “What the fuck, Rebecca?”

She grabbed his hand and ran towards the garden. “Live for once, you ass.”

Dionysus’ gave a blank face and his mood blackened as he was dragged along.
I failed before. I will fail again.

DON’T COME BY THE BAR ON MY SHIFT

Rebecca was beyond irritated. She dragged Dionysus around the garden while he stayed silent, a pouting fool. They didn’t stay long and the trip back to her apartment was even worse given the muteness of the journey and him being as distant as could be.

She closed the door and stood there, waiting. Waiting for an apology, while Dionysus seeing he was in trouble, chose to make it worse. “I can’t lose another.”

“Another?”

“Yes.”

“Whose the other? Is it, Ariadne?”

He nodded, his voice cracked. This infuriated Rebecca further. “It is true. I did love her.” He frowned; he wanted to admit that after what she had done to him with Zeus and Hera. He felt hurt and betrayed.

Rebecca threw her hands up—gestures became abundant when she was fueled by rage and indignation. “You knew Apollo gave me that book. You
knew
that I would read it. Why did you never bring it up?”

“It’s sour for me.” His eyes darted, he knew he had made a grave mistake
.

“Is it why you drink?”

“I don’t drink
just
because of her.”

“Just?”

Dionysus grit his teeth. “Don’t twist me up.”

“I don’t need to twist you up. You fuck up very well on your own.”

He sighed, heavy and long. “True. I don’t need any help there. I have a lot of things to drink to.”

“What about the comments Hades made? You used to roam the world.”

“When my heart wasn’t as heavy.”

“This is what I get. The Dionysus burdened with others.”

“What have I done wrong?”

“You’ve hoarded a love for someone else.”

“Don’t we all?”

“I don’t.”

“You’re new to this world.”

“Being old isn’t a pass to hold on to such things. When’s the last time you’ve seen her?”

“Centuries ago—”

“And?”

He moved his tongue around his mouth, a bitter taste came and made everything taste like ash. “She was with her man.”

Rebecca chuckled. “Are you serious?”

He shook his head. “I don’t joke about this.”

“You’ve been a love sick puppy over a girl that doesn’t want you?”

“I—”

“Oh, save it. You damn fool, Dionysus. You were my world here, and I was another gal in the gallery.”

“That’s not—”

She threw up her hands, her face full of irritation and exasperation for the situation. “You should go.”

“You’re not going to let me explain myself here.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Dionysus, there’s nothing to explain. I’m second fiddle. I’m the safety net. I’m the next in the line. I’m second place. You kept on being the same damn fool even though you had me. I won’t be second best for the rest of my life. I’m someone’s first. Now go, I don’t want to hear any of it.”

“But—”

“I don’t give a shit who you are. You need to go.”

Dionysus hung his head low. He turned around and made for the door.

“One other thing.”

Dionysus whipped around, thinking this would be her giving him a second chance.

“Don’t come by the bar on my shift.”

He slowly exhaled and opened the front door. He carefully closed the door behind him and slid down to the floor in front of her apartment.