Chapter Eighty One

Chapter Eighty One
Athena
The rain hammered the pavement in relentless sheets, blurring the world into a smeared haze of grays and silvers. Soaked to the bone, I stumbled blindly through the deserted streets, my coat and thin dress clinging uselessly to my skin. 

My bare feet stung with every step, but I barely noticed — my mind was a chaotic storm, spinning out of control to match the one raging around me.

I didn’t see the headlights until they were nearly upon me.

A car swerved violently, tires shrieking against the slick asphalt. I froze, heart pounding against my ribs, as the vehicle skidded to a halt just inches away. The driver’s door slammed open, and a tall figure burst out into the downpour, fury radiating from him.

"What the hell—" the man began sharply, but the words died in his throat the moment his eyes found mine.

I stared back, wide-eyed, rainwater dripping from my lashes. It took me a second to recognize him through the haze.

It was Eros.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. We stood there in the rain, locked in some invisible pull, the storm washing away everything but the look in his eyes. The anger etched across his face softened in an instant, replaced by something far more dangerous — concern.

"Athena?" His voice was rough with disbelief. "What are you doing out here?"

I shook my head weakly, unable to form the words. My lips trembled. My body trembled. I must have looked as broken as I felt because, without hesitation, Eros stripped off his coat and draped it over my shoulders. 

Gently, he pulled me against him, his arms strong and steady, anchoring me when I felt like I might shatter.

"Come on," he said roughly, steering me toward the passenger seat of his car.

I resisted, mumbling something incoherent, trying to explain I couldn't go back. As he opened the door and mentioned taking me home—to Lysander—panic surged through me. I clutched his coat tighter, shaking my head fiercely.

“No. Not there. Please,” I rasped, my voice cracking under the weight of desperation. "Don't take me back to Lysander. Please."

He froze, muscles going rigid as my words sank in. For a heartbeat, he just stared at me, rainwater dripping from his hair, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Then he nodded once, sharp and certain. A fierce, protective look flared in his dark eyes. "I won't," he said, his voice low and steady. "I swear."

Without another word, he helped me into the car, closing the door firmly against the storm.

He slid into the driver's seat, immediately blasting the heat. As he drove, he kept casting tense, sidelong glances at me — as if afraid that if he looked away too long, I might vanish altogether.

The drive was quiet, save for the rhythmic sweep of the wipers across the windshield and the occasional shudder that ran through me. Eros’s hands were tight on the wheel, his jaw locked in barely restrained tension. He didn’t press me with questions, though I could feel them simmering just beneath the surface.

It didn’t escape me how life had come full circle. As Eros guided me through the rain, a memory flickered to life — him saving me in almost the exact same way nearly thirteen years ago. 

Even when I thought I was utterly alone, he had been there. That boy I had always leaned on, always believed in, had come back to me.

I was too emotionally drained to remind him of the conversation we’d had in his office just a few months ago — the one where I asked if the old Eros I knew could ever return.

Well, here he was.

We had finally found him.

Finally, we pulled up in front of a tall, gleaming building — the Royal Palace.

I remembered now: since the past month, Eros had been spending weekdays here, reserving weekends for Villa Isadora. It made sense — Villa Isadora was far outside the city, sprawling and isolated. Here, the penthouse offered convenience, privacy, and, tonight, a refuge.

He parked swiftly and was out of the car before I could move, opening my door and shielding me from the rain once more. His hand found my elbow, steady and sure, and for the first time in hours, I let myself believe that maybe — just maybe — I wasn’t completely alone.

Inside, the warmth of Eros’s penthouse wrapped around us like a cocoon, a stark contrast to the cold rain still lashing the city outside. Eros disappeared briefly into another room and returned with a clean set of clothes — one of his oversized sweatshirts and a pair of soft drawstring lounge pants.

"Here," he said quietly, placing them into my hands. "Get out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia. I’ll make you something warm."

I nodded mutely and slipped into the guest bathroom, the door clicking softly shut behind me. My fingers trembled as I peeled off my soaked dress, every movement clumsy and slow, and slipped into the dry clothes. 

They smelled faintly of fresh detergent... and something else, something inherently Eros — clean, warm, familiar. Comforting in a way that cracked the armor around my heart.

When I emerged, swallowed in fabric that hung loosely from my frame, Eros was waiting by the couch, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand, crowned with generous heaps of marshmallows.

He guided me to the couch and handed me a mug. I accepted it with both hands, the ceramic warm against my frozen fingers. The first sip burned my tongue slightly, but the heat settled deep inside me, thawing the parts of me I hadn’t realized were frozen.

Eros sat beside me, close but not suffocating, his presence solid and steady like a shield between me and the rest of the world. 

For a long while, we said nothing. The rain pattered steadily against the windows, filling the silence between us with a kind of uneasy peace. I clutched the mug tighter, drawing comfort from its warmth.

Finally, Eros leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees, watching me with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

"What happened, Athena?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "What were you doing out there? Barefoot, in the rain... looking like you were running from something?"

My fingers tightened around the mug. I stared into the swirling chocolate as if it might grant me the courage I lacked. I couldn’t tell him everything — not yet. I couldn’t say that Lysander’s rage had finally spilled over into violence. 

That the man I had married had raised a hand against me and shattered the last fragile illusion of safety I had clung to.

Instead, I gave him a carefully edited truth.

"I just... I couldn’t stay there anymore," I whispered hoarsely. "It’s been bad for a while. I kept thinking it would get better, that if I just tried harder, it would change. But tonight..." My voice broke, and a tear slid down my cheek. "Tonight I realized it was all a lie."

Eros’s hands clenched into fists on his thighs, his jaw tightening. But he didn’t push, didn’t demand more. Somehow, he understood there were pieces I wasn’t ready — or able — to give him.

"You don’t have to go back," he said fiercely. "Not tonight. Not ever, if you don’t want to."

I lifted my gaze to him, my vision blurring. "I don’t know what to do," I admitted, my voice cracking. "I have nowhere else to go."

“You have here,” Eros said without hesitation. His voice was low, rough with emotion. “You have me.”

The dam inside me broke. I set my mug down with trembling hands and covered my face, the sobs wracking my body too strong to hold back any longer.

Without thinking, Eros moved closer. His arms came around me, strong and unyielding. I resisted for a moment, stiff and uncertain, but the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against my ear, undid me, breaking through my defenses. 

I collapsed against him, my body shaking with silent sobs as he held me, his hand stroking my damp hair in slow, soothing motions. My fingers clutched at the fabric of his sweatshirt like a lifeline.

"You’re safe now," he murmured into my hair. "I promise you, Athena. You’re safe."

"Thank you for not making me go back,” I whispered, my voice so small it barely rose above the storm outside. "Thank you."

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, so gentle it almost undid me all over again. "I'm here," he said simply. "As long as you need me, I'm here."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe him.