“So now you see why Logan and I are no longer together,” Max tells me later, casting her eyes down. “I thought it was love, but it got abusive. Physical and emotional. And the emotional part was worse.”

I reach across the kitchen table and squeeze her hand. Hector is taking Gotham to school, so it’s just the two of us in the house. The old man didn’t ask any questions when we came back to the kitchen. He knows what happened at the front door. He knows that Max needs time alone.

Which is why I’m not pressuring her to go to work, even though there are three new clients that need to be onboarded.

“It’s not your fault, Max.”

I can’t help but feel guilty. As the god of love, I could have prevented that heartbreak for her. I could have saved her, even though that would have cost her Gotham.

But now’s not the time to bring that up.

Maxine bites her lip, refusing to look up. “It’s hard…He’s still Gotham’s father, and…”

“A real father wouldn’t treat him—or you—that way.”

She sighs. “He says I’m the one keeping him from having a relationship with his son. But his drinking and the drugs…” Her voice trails off. “I don’t want Gotham to see that.

“There’s a restraining order against him. He’s not supposed to be within three hundred yards of my house.”

I frown. “And he’s still terrorizing you?”

“Well, you saw what happened out there.” She nods toward the front door. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“I’m glad I was there. Although I’m not sure how much good I did.”

She snickers. “I can’t tell if you made it worse or if you gave me the strength to kick him out.”

“Knowing how big of a pain in the ass I am, probably both.”

“The pain-in-the-ass part is right.” She raises an eyebrow. “So that didn’t scare you off?”

I kiss her forehead and place a strand of hair behind her ear. “You scare me every moment of every day, Max. But that’s why I love you.”

Shit. The L-word popped out unexpectedly, and I sit back, feeling embarrassed. Max’s mouth is open in a little ‘o’ as she searches my face.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Please don’t joke like that,” she whispers. “Please.”

The fact that she’d be thinking that hurts me down to my core, and I hide my grimace. After all, I haven’t really had the best reputation for love in anyone’s eyes.

I hold her gaze, feeling my heart pound in my chest. Do I own up to it? Tell her about this feeling that’s been growing inside me? Or do I tell her that it was a joke and she shouldn’t take it seriously? Perhaps I tell her that I love her as a friend.

I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?

I lick my lips and plunge forward with the truth. “I’m in love with you, Max.”

She shakes her head and gets to her feet like she’s expecting me to bite her. “No.” She laughs, combing a trembling hand through her hair. “You can’t be in love with me. I’m…not like the girls you sleep with. I’m just your fake girlfriend. I—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise her, standing up. “I know it started out as being fake, but somewhere along the way, you became so important to me. You. And Gotham. And even Hector, although I’m not sure what he thinks about me.”

She peers up at me, then backs away slowly, like an animal cornered. “Damien…”

I step forward, catching her by the shoulders, and kiss her on the mouth now, fully committing to my feelings for her, and she gasps into me, responding back with veracity. Regardless of how scared she is of the word “love,” she’s kissing me back and unbuttoning my shirt before leading me back to her room, where I make love to her up against the wall. Making her call out my name and dig her nails into my back. Trying to convince her with my body what words can’t seem to convey.

As we lay in a breathless heap on her bedroom floor, I reach over and pull her blankets around us. She lays her head on my chest and lets out an airy sigh.

“Damien?” she murmurs, sounding as if she’s about to fall asleep.

“Yeah?”

There’s a long pause from her, as if she’s considering my words. Then, “I love you, too.”

I stare up at the ceiling for a few moments, before wrapping my arms around her shoulders and kissing the crown of her head. Never wanting to let her go.

I am Eros, the god of love. And I’m in love with a wonderful, aggravating, intelligent, and absolutely perfect woman.

* * *

In the days and weeks that follow, I spend more and more time with Max and her family. It feels like this has become a real, true relationship between us, one where I’m finally happy.

I’m rarely ever at my apartment in the city. We spend our days together at the office, where I fuck her over our work desks in the quiet moments between appointments, and I stay over at her house every chance I get. I help Gotham out with his homework. Hector has started to acknowledge my presence as more than a mere nuisance.

And it feels like Max has fully accepted me into her life. The word “love” is shared between us easily, like we can’t get enough of it. Like we’re two parts of the same soul that have finally found each other. She smiles more now and even gets me coffee without me asking.

My work reflects the change, too.

For the first time since Elena started her lawsuit and Nadya corroborated her story, I’ve had a positive influx of new clients wanting to find love. In fact, it seems like they have suddenly started pounding on the door to let us match them up.

The case is still ongoing, sure, but there’s a hopefulness now that wasn’t there previously. It doesn’t seem to be harming my image anymore, especially since I have a happy girlfriend on my arm that makes me grin. In between exploring our bodies and our hearts, Max and I have become synonymous with love among the social elite in New York and the world.

There’s just one thing that gives me pause.

I have to tell her who I am. And that’s the most terrifying thought of all. What if she thinks I’m crazy? What if she gets frightened and runs off? Or any number of things that could happen when she finds out that I’m the Greek God she’s read about in mythology class?

Max lives in the real world, dealing with very real angry and upset clients. Taking care of her very normal boss, even with his lavish lifestyle. I’m sure in her worldview, there’s no room for things as seemingly-fantastical as the god of love.

I could lose her.

I close my eyes and shake my head. No. I have to make her see. Make her believe in me as a god and as the mortal who loves her. She’s a reasonable person, having been exposed to some crazy shit in her tenure with me.

We’ll make it work.

But what happens beyond this happily ever after? I can’t help the niggling thought as it seeps through my brain, poisoning my high hopes for a good outcome.

I’ve been shitty at happily ever afters my whole life. I help set mortals up with them, but it’s their actions that ultimately lead to their happy lives or their misery. From my own history, I’ve either been the one who had his heart broken, or I’ve screwed it up.

Gods live an eternity, and that’s a long time for us not to fuck up.

So, what does it mean for me to have a relationship with a mortal? She has a family here on Earth. I can’t just take her up to Olympus and expect her to be all right with it. What about Gotham? Or her father?

I can’t take her away from them. Or from her life in New York and Jersey City. She has a history here, unlike me.

The old legends have plenty of tales about gods and goddesses falling for mortals. It never ended well for the mortals in those stories.

I would never do anything to hurt Max.

At the same time, I can’t keep it from her. I can’t go on pretending that I’m not eons old. Or that I don’t have magical powers that can strike someone with an arrow or make them fall for someone.

I’ve been keeping a low profile with my powers, but that needs to change, doesn’t it?

I have to tell her.

But when?

And where would that leave me?