Aphrodite

The heavens were ringing with laughter full of happiness and cheerfulness. Now that his truth had finally been revealed, it seemed that all had been forgiven and forgotten. Just as I was. Forgotten not forgiven, that is. It had been a fortnight since I had disappeared into my temple palace. Yet, no one seemed to care about the fact that I had gone missing.

Not even my son. The very one, I had raised completely on my own. Perhaps he did have a reason not to care about his mother anymore. After all, I had done my best to sabotage his marriage to his mortal. And my reasons admittedly had been selfish, rather than out of true motherly concern for him.

But before those unfortunate events, we had been so close! Was it really so easy for him to forget our happy memories, because of one mistake? To ignore his own mother? Was it that he also no longer cared for me?

Was there truly no one who cared about the Goddess of Love? Not even one of my “many” lovers.

Not even Ares who had ruined everything. Or Athena who had started it all with her lies.

Not not even Ariadne who until recently had claimed to be my closest friend. The only one who had acted as if she had understood my pain. 

Yes, why would anyone think that the news of his upcoming wedding would affect me at all? I was after all the promiscuous goddess who had left her husband, ex-husband, for the sole opportunity to bed other males.

How they all liked to ignore, that I was also the Goddess of Love. How was it not obvious to any of them, that sensuality and love went hand in hand, for someone such as me?

When things had been right between us, had I not shown the world how much I loved him? Had I not shown him how much he meant to me? Was it truly so hard to see, that I still did?

The thoughts circling in my head reduced me to crying again. Not the big sobs, I had suffered through earlier in my self-imposed isolation. These were of the noiseless silent variety. Less annoying, but a touch more painful.

I was such a fool, I thought as I hit the bedding under my hand with frustration. 

As foolish and laughable as everyone deemed me to be. I had had decades upon decades to fix what had been broken, but I had let my pride and anger get in the way for too long.

But then it had only been my pride and anger that had carried me through, even when my love had failed me. It still did on the worst of days.

Therefore, I let my anger and hurt keep the God I loved at a distance. I had been married to him for a mere decade, the only time I had known any true happiness in my entire miserable existence.

We had, had our disputes just like any loving couple I had seen. How could we not? People tended to get burned in love. And he was the master of fires that burned, after all. Brilliant but painful fires. 

To the world, he was the ugly cripple. To me, he had always been the most intelligent and kindest god. And yet somehow he had seemed like the most unattainable of gods. Among the most handsome of gods, he was the only one who had been so different.

He was shrouded in such mystery, that it had always been impossible to unravel all his secrets.

It had not taken me long, to fall in love with him. And once, I had known what at the time had seemed like his biggest revelation, he had dug himself in my heart even deeper.

Artemis, Athena, Demeter, and Hebe. The few Goddesses who had any standing in Olympus had not understood my attraction to the “weakest” deity of them all.

Apollo, Ares, Zeus, and Hermes all were envious of the ugly beast who had bedded the most beautiful goddess first. And then they had been annoyed that he had kept the privilege of being my only lover, for as long as he had.

Yet as I had once shyly told him, “You carry my soul with you.” And to my greatest annoyance, it was still true. My mind and my heart followed him wherever he went.


I had found all of them so foolish for their vain nature. Yet was I not the biggest fool? I had lost when I had stood against them. And now I was still losing, even after joining their ranks.

I had done my best to not let all the sordidness of the “heavens,” affect my marriage. I was happy and in love. Stayed true and loyal to my vows. Thought that my determination would be enough to carry us through.

Until, until... that moment, when Athena had made that horrible accusation, and Hermes had corroborated her story.

On that very day, all my happiness had turned into ashes. I had fallen from my highest highs to my lowest lows.

That night, I had gone from being a proud wife to a low wretch. A whore, as they called me behind my back.

All because of his cowardice. Because he had hidden, instead of coming forward to prove his accusers false. He had remained silent and arbitrarily proven himself guilty. Of rape. And I had been the one punished for that.

And it had cost me everything. It had cost my child everything. Not his. Not ours. Only mine. He was only my son.

Aphrodite had become the whore. Eros had become the bastard.

All because of him. The one I had loved. The one I now hated. Yet the very same one I still loved. The only one my cursed fates would allow me to love. 

If he thought he could simply leave me in the past, and move on with his nymph, then he was sadly mistaken.

I had loved him at his weakest. No one could have loved him and accepted him the way he used to be. I had been the one who had accepted him, not her. Where was she when he had been at his worst?

Now that his true form had been revealed, it was only expected, that both males and females would vie for his attention. Yet for all his intelligence, he had easily given in to that mortal nymph of his.

Neither had he made her work as hard as he had made me, to gain his regard. If I had, had any of his affection to begin with. I had started to suspect that Hephaestus had never truly cared for me, let alone have any love for me. 

Yet somehow, he was smitten with her after such a short amount of time.

I had the most beautiful beings vying for my attention. Yet even I had not married anyone else after our divorce. No matter how convinced the world seemed Ares would be my next husband.

But I had decided that no male would ever again be given the right to call me wife. And yet he had so easily found someone else to replace me.

All of the males I had "truly" let into my bed had been done out of revenge and hurt. Yet seeing me with others had done nothing to his cold unfeeling heart.

Unlike me, who boiled with envy just at the thought of him belonging to someone else. Being a husband to another. And I even hated feeling this way. Because he deserved nothing from me. Not my love, and not even my hate. I wished that I could be as unmoved by him, as he was by me. 

It may have been easy for him to forget me. To ridicule me from his moral high horse, as nothing but a sex fiend.

But oh I would show him exactly how vicious I could be with my anger. He had only known my fierce love. And then my deep anger. But he had never truly known the brunt of my vengeful hate. How cruel I truly could be.

Like his mother. No no, I could be worse than her.

His wedding day was upon us soon, and that made for an occasion of giving and receiving gifts. Did it not? It had been ages since I had given him anything. Now the opportunity had presented itself.

I wonder how would Hephaestus like receiving what I had to bring for him, and his new bride.

It was truly a gift that would never allow him to forget about me.