Demi watched a tear fall onto the batter she was mixing, and she stepped away from the table in shock.
“What’s wrong? Are the scarabs running about again?” Hera asked, rushing to Demi’s side and peering into the bowl. “Looks fine to me. What’s the problem?”
“One of my tears fell in. I swear, I didn’t even know I was crying. Hera, why am I such a mess? I can’t go on like this! The rehearsal dinner is tonight and Chloe is not going to take kindly to a bitter dessert,” she cried out.
“To be honest, Demi, your sadness isn’t quite bitter. It’s got more of what I would describe as... the tang of regret. Which might be a healthy consideration for anyone heading into a marriage!”
I appreciate Hera’s attempt at comforting me, but she’s clearly grasping at straws.
It’s like that time she told me she liked the color of the icing on my last batch of brownies.
It’s the kind of thing you only say when there’s nothing else polite to comment on.
Sigh.
“The point is, it’s going to taste bad, and no one will ever hire us again. We’ll go out of business and we’ll end up on the streets.” Demi knew she was being dramatic, but also it was what she genuinely felt. Everything she’d carefully built with Hera by her side was systematically falling apart, and she was tumbling back into the despair she’d felt after the breakup with Zeus.
“I think I know what’s really going on. You’re talking to Charles later today and that’s gotten you all worked up. Think about it all logically, Demi. If the conversation goes badly, you’ll be left with a familiar sense of melancholy, and that can arguably be romantic. Say that seeps into your baking, well, maybe Chloe and Lucifer will have the occasional pang of anguish after dinner, but they’ll seek comfort in each other’s arms. Heartache doesn’t taste bad, but desperation does.”
Hera took the bowl of batter away from Demi and started stirring it herself.
“That’s a lovely image, Hera, but you have to admit that that still sounds like a rather terrible best case scenario,” Demi pointed out.
“But that’s the worst case scenario! Best case, Charles will explain away his absence, beg for your forgiveness, and tell you he never wants to spend another day without you by his side. Honestly, I think that might make the dessert too sweet to be edible, but each to their own. I think you should throw this batch out and stay away from all things baking until after you’ve talked to Charles.”
Before Demi could stop her, Hera dumped out the failed batter into the garbage. Demi let out a little grunt of despair, but quickly realized that her sister was right. There was no use wasting ingredients to make what would inevitably prove to be inedible.
“Sometimes, I hate how right you can be, Hera. Here’s something you might not know the answer to: what am I supposed to do with myself in the meantime? I can’t just sit around like this pining and whining until Charles calls.”
“You’re right. I think you should go see him.” Hera hopped up on the counter behind her with a mischievous smile on her face. “He can’t keep making you wait like this. You deserve a face to face confrontation after everything, don’t you think?”
Something pulled Demi’s attention to the door of the bakery and she saw a familiar figure on the other side, bending to grasp the door handle.
“I think I’m going to get that face to face sooner than either of us thought,” Demi whispered.
“Hmm? What do you mean? Are you going to... ” Hera trailed off as the front door opened, and she also turned to look at whoever was there.
Charles?
Or a shifter?
Is Pan playing tricks on me?
“Demi. I’m so glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure that you would be, but I was... I was ready to wait,” Charles said gently, walking right up to her with a smile.
“Where have you been? I didn’t hear from you for a week and you left without saying anything—”
“I left a note,” Charles interjected in a weak attempt at self-defense in response to Demi’s line of questioning. “But I assume you didn’t get it. Or that... it might have been too late by the time you did. I had to go away, and there was no—”
“Ahem, Charles, has Demi shown you the garden in the back? Also, hi, nice to see you again.”
Demi could tell that her sister was flashing a tight, fake smile, even though she had her back turned to her.
“Ah, yes, the garden. Follow me.” Demi picked up on the message Hera was not so subtly trying to send, and spun around on her heel toward the back door. She could hear the subtle tap of his shoes on the floor as Charles followed behind.
What is going on?
How did he get here?
I wish he’d warned me he was planning on coming here.
I would have put on something other than the equivalent of a paper bag.
No, don’t think like that, Demi!
He doesn’t deserve your best.
Unless... have I been blowing this all out of proportion?
Maybe we were never that serious.
A week isn’t that long, after all.
Maybe I’ve imagined a problem between us when there was none...
Leading the way through the narrow bakery hallways that twisted and turned an impossible number of times, Demi tried to regulate her breathing. Her mind raced as she found it difficult to discern how she ought to be feeling, let alone what she was actually feeling. Above all the messy, complicated emotions, however, rested one key sensation: relief. Relief that she would, in fact, be able to lay eyes on him, for one last time, at least.
Finally, they reached the light at the end of the hallway where a purple screen door opened up onto a tangled garden of absurd beauty. Jungles of blooming vines intertwined and formed a kind of canopy over the rustic fountains and small exotic trees, still leaving enough room for blades of sunlight to fall upon a long harvest table. Without looking up at Charles, unsure of what she might do if they met eyes within mere inches of each other, Demi sat down at the table.
“I tried to bring flowers, but the trip kind of... sucked the life out of them.” From behind his back, Charles pulled out what clearly used to be a dozen red roses, now limp and dry.
“Even when I teleport back from topside, if I have any greenery on me it will disintegrate once I pass through to purgatory. You should try crossing with a snack. It starts crawling with maggots as soon as you get here. Plenty grows here, and the soil is rich in nutrients, obviously, but humans are the only living things that can cross over. Well, humans and... supernatural beings.”
Why am I babbling on like this about maggots and crossing over?
Remember why you’re mad.
Remember when he basically ghosted you?
Stop trying to fill the silence just because it’s easier than just confronting him.
“Listen, Demi. I need to come out and apologize for disappearing like I did. For a few hours there, I tried to tell myself that it was excusable. Work emergencies do happen, and you’d understand. But then I was on a bush plane, totally out of cell reception, and faced with the fact that I wouldn’t have any way of contacting you for a whole week. It was only then, in the wilderness without any other distractions, that I had to admit to myself that I’d run away. I was scared of your world... of everything that you are. You’re so superior to me in every way, and I got in my head about whether or not I was worthy of being with you. What took me even longer to realize, was that—”
Demi had stopped listening a few sentences back, distracted by a nagging thought that was seemingly insignificant, or at the very least unimportant, but nevertheless all encompassing.
“How did you get back here? I know you left through the Sphinx’s gate. I had to check with her because I was terrified that you’d been sent to the underworld on your way out. Terrified that I’d brought you to a place that had hurt you. But the gateways are one sided—you have to find a separate door to get back in, and I didn’t tell you where the other ones are. How did you get back to purgatory?”
Her eyes narrowed on his as he smiled a little with a sheepish look on his face.
“Well, I did have a little help,” he admitted.
“Did Eve help you, then? Or Aphrodite?”
“No. The truth is, I didn’t find another doorway to purgatory, and I couldn’t find anyone who could teleport me back. I actually... made one.”
The way Demi pulled her chin back in surprise made Charles laugh.
He made a gateway to purgatory?
Even I wouldn’t know where to start doing something like that.
“You made one?” Her anger immediately dissipated, despite herself, replaced by avid curiosity and something approaching hope.
“Mrs. Murphy and I summoned Lucifer topside, and asked him to grant me permission to create a gateway to purgatory from under my lake house. I wasn’t sure it was going to work, but I really needed it to, and eventually he agreed. When I told him I needed it done immediately he wasn’t too pleased, but it’s like you said. He’s gotten softer since meeting Chloe, and I think... I know I’ve become a better person since meeting you.”
Demi’s jaw dropped, her eyes going large, the shock of the news leaving her flabbergasted.
I can’t believe that he went to all that trouble just for... just for what?
“Why did you do that? Even I’m scared of Lucifer from time to time. I couldn’t imagine what kind of courage it would take to summon him, especially when you’re obviously so... ” she trailed off, not wanting to say the embarrassing words out loud.
“So scared of everything supernatural? Yeah, I’m pretty surprised at myself, too. I hope you take that as a sign about just how serious I am about this. About you. I need you to know that I’m not going to run away again. I want to be able to see you whenever I want to, or whenever you’ll let me. Yes, finding out that all this is real was a shock for me, but I can’t go back to life as it was before I met you. You’ve changed everything for the better, and I just want to be around you. If that means I have to invite a piece of all this madness into my home, then so be it.”
Charles bit his bottom lip and took her hands in his, sliding closer to her on the outdoor bench as the scent of some lily of the valley wafted over them.
All of a sudden, Demi couldn’t take her gaze off his mouth, touched by the warmth of his sacrifice and gesture. No one had ever done anything like that for her, and she’d been with several people who possessed all but limitless powers.
“Demi, I’m in love with you. You’re a literal goddess, and there’s no doubt in my mind, now, that I’m not even close to worthy, but if I’ve somehow landed the chance to have any of your attention, I’m going to ride this high as long as it lasts and do whatever I can to make it never end.”
Instead of saying anything back out loud, Demi immediately grabbed Charles’ face and pulled him toward her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself on top of his lap until she was straddling him. She peppered his mouth and face with her lips.
“I love you, too,” she finally whispered back when she could bring herself to stop kissing him.
Underneath her, Charles sighed and laughed with relief, his head tucked into her breasts. He clung to her waist for dear life, and Demi luxuriated in the feeling of being wanted and needed.
“I was so scared you were going to throw me out of the bakery or something. And when I pulled those dead roses out, I thought for sure I’d never see you again!”
She smiled at his vulnerability, stroking his face in reassurance.
“I thought I wasn’t going to ever hear from you again. Where the hell were you that you had to take a bush plane there?”
“Oh god, it’s such a long, stupid story. I was in Colorado with this client. We were trying to get him to finish up this contract, and what I thought was going to be some lavish mountain chalet work trip ended up being... much more rustic. Millionaires can be eccentric, I guess. You’ll be pleased to hear that your old friend Tabitha was there and I think she may have found herself a beau.”
“Oh my!” Demi giggled back. “Tabitha with an eccentric millionaire? I think I can picture it. I’m happy for her.”
“I never should have gone. I just wanted to get far away from how much all this scared me, but I missed it all the second I stepped away. Ugh, I missed you so much,” he said, hugging her to him tightly again.
“Listen, how are you feeling about... all this at the moment? Because I have Lucifer and Chloe’s rehearsal dinner to get to tonight, and I think they’d be pretty pleased if you joined. If it wouldn’t be too overwhelming for you, of course. I don’t want to rush you.” Still ecstatic, Demi traced the outline of Charles’ face, reassuring herself that he was, in fact, real.
“I can maybe handle a rehearsal dinner. I owe Lucifer, after all. Do you think they’d be upset about an extra guest added at the last minute like this?”
Oh you sweet, innocent thing.
Demi smiled, giving him time to figure out the answer to his own question.
“Right. I’m guessing someone can just wave a hand and an extra table setting will appear?”
“Something like that. Great! I’m so glad you’re coming. How would you feel about being my sous chef until then? I’m doing the desserts for the dinner, and everything I made up ‘till now tasted terrible, because of, you know, us. Now that my spirits are somewhat raised... I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” Demi hopped off his lap and held out her hand to him.
“Your work suffered because of me? Well, now I have to help. I’ll follow your lead, captain. What should I do with these?” he asked, gesturing to the dead roses. Demi took them from him and buried her nose in the blooms, careful to avoid any thorns.
Breathing in the rich floral scent deeply, she looked up at Charles’ admiring gaze trained on her and the petals immediately re-hydrated, filling with life and promise.