The worst day of my life. There is no other way to describe it. What was the point of finding out that my father's death was a farce, when I lost my mother in front of my eyes? In the face of all this, having to knock on the door of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, shouldn't be much.
But it is.
Because there was something between her and Emanuele.Or Quod.Or Demetrius.Or whoever else he has been.
She calls herself Calypso, like the Greek goddess.And what if she is?
We spoke at length this afternoon, and she had me tell her everything about myself.And yet, I still know nothing about her.
It’s as if she weaves an invisible web—one so irresistible that, before you realize it, you’re spilling your secrets as though you had never wanted anything else in life.
She calls me her guest. She’s offered me food so exquisite it steals my senses, invited me to stroll through her garden. And yet, I feel an unbridgeable distance between us.
Like I am nothing more than an idle amusement to her, a fleeting novelty in her eternal life.
I wander alone through the palms and oleanders. In the distance, the sea murmurs against the shore. Twilight has just begun to settle, softening the sky into hues of fading gold. The October evening drapes itself over the world in warmth, gentle and serene, as it often is in this place.
I recall the words Emanuele spoke in Greek before we entered—Book Five of the Odyssey.Maybe I remember what it was about.I just have to let the knowledge come to me.
And then, suddenly, the story is there, whole in my mind.
Calypso wanted to keep Odysseus on her island, Ogygia. But he longed to return to Ithaca, to Penelope. In the end, the gods forced her to let him go.
But that’s just a myth.Not reality.
Though, at this point, I’m no longer sure I can distinguish between the two.
I sigh and glance around, wondering where Emanuele is.
The answer comes the very moment the thought forms.
I hear his voice, close by. I follow the sound—only to halt abruptly when I see her.
Calypso.
I shrink back behind a palm tree.
He stands with his back to me, but she—she is perfectly within my line of sight.
For a fleeting instant, I think her gaze meets mine. But it’s so brief, I can’t be certain.
They are speaking in Ancient Greek. Words I should not understand.But I do.
I clear my mind and draw upon the knowledge buried in my subconscious—the translations, the lessons, the desperate studying to avoid failing the year.
I can do this.
I am doing this.
Their pronunciation is different from what we were taught in school, but I grasp most of it now.
My heartbeat quickens.I’ve done it.
«You know what you’ve done,» Calypso is saying, her voice sharp as a blade. «And I see no remorse in you, daemon.»
Her eyes burn with resentment, yet they shine as brilliantly as the stars blooming into the night sky.
Emanuele spreads his arms. «You had to let him go. One way or another.»
«That is your defense?» she hisses. «I loved him. But you could never understand that. You are an empty thing. A creature of deception and betrayal.»
I know how deeply those words must wound him.But before her, he does not flinch.
«Perhaps you’re right,» he says. «But Lilia is a nativa, like you. I ask for nothing except your help.»
Calypso lets out a cold, melodic laugh. «And what do I receive in return?»
«What do you want?»
She lowers her lashes, and her lips curve into something cruel.
This time, I know she sees me.
Her gaze cuts through me like an arctic wind, freezing me where I stand.
«A farewell,» she says simply. «The one you denied me.»
Emanuele shakes his head. «I am not Odysseus. You know that.»
«And yet you played his part so well… while he walked away.»
She steps closer. «You can do it again.»
«It won’t mean anything.»
«That is not for you to decide. Do this, and I will help her.»
He hesitates.But then—he changes.
The man he becomes is one I glimpse only in profile.
A neatly trimmed beard frames a jaw of quiet strength.A proud, well-defined nose begins at the base of a high, noble forehead.He is shorter than the form I know him in—but his broad shoulders and regal bearing make him impossible to ignore.
His presence is commanding. Magnetic. Irresistible.
Calypso parts her lips, spellbound.
«So real…» she whispers, touching his face.
I hold my breath as she traces his lips with her fingertips.
And when she kisses him—
—the ground vanishes beneath me.
Their lips press together in a long, passionate embrace.
I hear their sighs.I feel them—just as acutely as I feel myself shattering.
A strangled sob escapes me.
Emanuele jerks away from her.
Calypso only laughs.
«Now we are even, daemon.»
They are the last words I hear before I turn and flee toward the shore.
I run.
I run until my lungs are raw and my legs collapse beneath me, sinking into the still-warm sand.
The waves lap at the shore, drawing me into the tide of my own tears.Tears I have not shed in so long.
Why am I crying?
He is nothing to me.And I am nothing to him.
Calypso was right.
He is only an illusion. One I helped build myself.
Then why do I weep?
Because I had hoped.
Hoped that, amid the ruin my life has become, there was something meant for me.
A light in the darkness that swallowed everything I was.
But no.
Not even that do I deserve.
Beautiful things exist only to destroy you when they are taken away.
«Lilia, please.»
His voice behind me is poison, searing up from my gut.
I bury my face in my hands. «Go away. Whoever you are. Go.»
But he comes closer.
«It meant nothing. You have to listen to me.»
I lift my head, my eyes ablaze. «You think I don’t know?» I snarl. «That I don’t know it meant nothing to you?» My voice shatters. «Just another role to play. But I have no use for your goddamn masks!»
He kneels, reaching for my arm. «Forgive me. I’ll do anything to—»
«Don’t touch me!»
I shove him—hard—knocking him onto his back.
My chest rises and falls in ragged bursts.
I want to destroy him.
To erase him from me.
To forget him.
To obliterate him.
So I do.
I launch myself at him, nails biting into my palms as I prepare to strike.
But he catches my wrists—pulling me against him.
And all I can do is scream my suffering in his face.
«I hate you! You bastard!»
He cups my face, pinning me in his gaze.
So close I feel his breath against my trembling lips.
«I love you, Lilia.» His voice is raw. «I love you.»
I wish it were true.
But it isn’t.
And yet—when his lips crush against mine, salt and fire and longin —I surrender.
I take all of him.
And he takes all of me.
And the whole damned universe watches.
«Only mine» I moan into his ear.
His voice is a heated whisper against my cheek. «Yes.»
He pulls my shirt over my head, and his touch on my breasts drowns me in an unknown pleasure—a tide that cannot be held back. I unbutton my jeans, letting his hand slip into the depths of my longing. Let this be my first time, my last, and all the others. I should feel uncertain, afraid of this moment. Instead, all I feel is a pull I neither know nor want to resist.
«I want all of you» I gasp, just before his fingers between my legs steal any remaining grasp of myself.
I strip off my jeans, and when I return to him, his hands grip my hips, guiding me onto his aching desire. The pain lasts but an instant, and it is so sweet that I melt into the moan I sigh against his lips.
«I belong to you, Lilia» he whispers, his voice low and slightly rough.
The glistening veil in his eyes, the way his breath trembles against my chest, drives me insane.
«I can feel you. Oh, God.»
Each movement is like the crack of lightning. Whoever he is, whoever I am, it no longer matters. We are one. Lost in each other. Indistinguishable.
«Everything.» My pleasure carries the word with it, stretching it into a trembling moan.
«Everything» he echoes, sinking deeper into me.
Once, twice, three times more. Until the peak of our passion leaves room for nothing else. The orgasm is so intense it rips a cry from my throat, muffled against his neck. My body shudders, shaken by waves that leave me breathless. And he arches beneath me, his abdomen taut in a final shudder of pleasure.
We remain like this, breathing in the scent of our damp skin. Rocked by the rhythmic sound of our quickened breaths. Until he lifts his chin, his fingers slipping into my hair, holding me as if he never wants to let go.
«Only you exist. Lilia.»
I rest my temple against his shoulder. «You know I will never forget this, right?»
«You won’t have to. No matter what happens.»
Reluctantly, I let myself slide down beside him. «But don’t take advantage of it.»
He smiles. «More likely the opposite.»
«I’m not the one going around kissing beautiful goddesses.»
Bringing that scene back to my mind makes my cheeks burn, and I have to exhale deeply to push the resentment away.
«I shouldn’t have given in to Calypso’s bargain. It won’t happen again. I swear it.»
I run my fingers through his hair. «But if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here now. For this time, you’re forgiven.»
He kisses my forehead and sighs. «I felt like I was dying at the thought of losing you.»
«Since when?» I ask.
«What?» He lowers his chin, trying to meet my gaze.
«You love me. Since when?»
«I don’t know… A year, I think.»
I push myself up on one elbow to search his eyes. «Really? I thought I was invisible to you.»
«I was supposed to.»
«Does my father know?»
«No.» Emanuele shifts his gaze toward the sea, now completely bathed in the moon’s faint glow. I try to decipher his expression, but I can’t.
«I guess that wasn’t in his plans,» I venture. «Nor in yours.»
He shakes his head. «I don’t know what they were anymore, nor what his plans are today.»
I sigh, brushing the sand off my skin.
«Did you ever talk to me without me knowing? Like, turning into Elisa?»
«I was tempted,» he admits with a trace of amusement. «But I didn’t. Except for when I told you the locker code.»
«Right… the girl at the bus stop.» Now that I think about it, I can see something of him there—maybe the look in her eyes, or the way she smiled at me. «With you, I could have two first times, actually.»
He shoots me an amused smirk and sits up. «Honestly, I had my doubts that was your first, just now.»
I stop fussing with the grains of sand clinging to my skin and nudge my shoulder against his.
«Idiot.»
He winks. «I can do worse.»
He stands up and lifts me into his arms. I look at the sea first, then at him, realizing only at that moment what he has in mind.
I cling to his shoulders. «Don’t you dare!»
«Already did!»
A moment later, we’re in the water, laughing and shouting. It’s warmer than I expected, but maybe it’s his skin, his wet lips, his hair between my fingers.
I allow myself this moment outside of time, where nothing else exists. A fleeting spark of happiness that will vanish with the first light of dawn, when the horrors that have engulfed my life will resurface.
But not yet. Not tonight.
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