She could never describe how it made her feel.
It was the most heartbreaking word she'd ever heard in her entire life. Emotions threatened to rip her apart as she gaped, the pain already squeezing her heart so hard it felt as if it would burst.
Grover's staring at her with fear in his eyes. Thalia, over by Artemis's throne, shoots her a worried look. Even Athena casts a disturbed glance down at her favorite daughter, but the goddess's expression is more pleased than concerned, and they all know why.
She hardly notices. She has no eyes for any other than him. He won't look at her. He's bowing to the king of the gods with a respect she had no idea he could produce, keeping his eyes down.
Sobs are building up inside her. She's suffocating. What will she do without him? Yes, he's stubborn and crazy and stupid and brave and heroic and good-looking, but he's become something more to her than just that idiot. She thought…she thought she was so much more to him. More than godhood, at least.
Her eyes are slamming closed, against the grotesque scene before her. She's hoping that the gods will take pity on her, make her wake from the nightmare she's being forced to endure.
A hand lands on her shoulder. It takes her a full minute to realize it's Thalia, giving her a remorseful eye. "I'm sorry, Beth."
She's frozen. She can't move. Grover inches closer. "It'll be okay," he whispers. "He'll…he'll visit." The satyr's lip quivers.
Hurt stabs her in the heart.
"Sure," she mutters.
Damn, she wishes what they say is true.
"Hey."
She'd been staring blankly at the glass of nectar in her hand, unable to drink any, incapable of seeing what's directly in front of her. She makes herself answer, but as soon as she speaks, she remembers a time when she was a better liar.
"Hey."
He looks so uncomfortable, as if he can't be near her. "I'm sorry."
A bitter, wry smile twists her lips. "You, sorry? What for this time?"
He blinks at her, frowning. "Do I have to say it out loud?"
Her grip tightens on the glass. "Yeah, you kind of do. You don't just drop a bomb like that, Seaweed Brain."
"Whatever, Wise Girl."
The glass shatters on the ground. "Don't call me that! Don't you ever call me that!" She's finally snapped, and they all know it. She's screaming at him now, letting out every bit of pain he'd ever caused her. "You can't just leave, you idiot! You can't just save the world—you can't just save me, then run off to be a god!"
He's blinking at her, as if he didn't see it coming. Clueless. "Well sorry, I kind of thought it was my choice!"
"And I thought you were better at choosing!" Everyone knows what she's talking about now. Her eyes are blazing with the power she could've only inherited from Athena herself, making him shrink instinctively.
Her face crumples when he can't even respond. He's surprised, like he never thought about how she'd react to his stupid decision. She turns her back on him, not bothering to stop or even wipe away the tears that spill down her face.
She punches the elevator button so hard her knuckles scream in protest. She stuffs them in her mouth to try to stifle the sobs she knows are coming, but it doesn't. She crumples to the cold tiles, pouring her pain into her hands. The icy elevator walls hold no comfort for her. The Muzak adds to her distress.
Where will she go? Camp? No, he'll be waiting. She can't go there. Home? She'll have to put up with her brothers, but it's a pain she would gladly take over the alternative. She did have those acceptance letters to a couple colleges there… She makes the decision right then and there: She can't stay in New York anymore.
Back to California it is.
She ignores the stares as she shoots from the elevator doors to the exit of the Empire State Building, climbing into the nearest taxi.
Screw him.
She doesn't know how long she held the grudge. A couple years, maybe. She just couldn't forgive him. But she couldn't let him go either.
Of course, boys hadn't left her alone, like she wanted all along. She got the frequent hit-on wherever she went; Aphrodite's doing. She turned each one away, no doubt making the love goddess more frustrated.
Her mother made her move on with her life, saying, "Fate has a way of putting in front of us that which we most try to leave behind." She didn't realize at the time who the goddess was quoting, or what she meant; she simply assumed her mother was pushing her to pursue a career. So she got herself accepted into the University of Southern California, a job as an intern to the local architect, even bought herself an apartment, but she wasn't happy.
Often she found herself fingering the necklace that had once been a token of home, now a sad, empty memory. It was only four, five years after that fateful word had been uttered when she decided the Fates had finally taken pity on her.
Then, of course, they came back and smacked her when she wasn't looking.
"Um, hello?"
It was morning, July 21, the summer solstice. She was standing in her apartment, holding a mug of coffee, watching the sun rise off the water of the San Francisco Bay. The voice behind her froze her muscles. She watched her mug fall in slow motion to the floor with a shatter.
"Annabeth?"
Oh, gods, he was doing it. The way he said her name—so hard to resist. She closed her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Her voice came out steady and calm, nothing alike the reeling sensation she had inside.
He chuckled. "I think I'm here to see Annabeth Chase."
He was laughing. How could he laugh? If she still held the mug she would've snapped it in her fist. Even so, the nearest lamp crashed into the wall just by his head. A plate trailed after, followed by the kitchen chair.
"Wait!" he shouted, catching a flying empty bottle.
"Wait?" she screamed. She clutched a whisk in her hand as if it was a lethal weapon. "I DID wait, Jackson! I DID wait for you! I waited FIVE years! Did you ever show up? NO! And now you just decide to pop out of nowhere and expect me to say it's okay?"
"Yeah, I sort of did!" he shouted back. "You were—GAH!" The toaster he'd caught spat burnt bread in his face, choking off his sentence. His expression was so funny she wanted to laugh, but she threw the whisk instead, nailing him in the forehead.
"You were the one that left!" he bellowed. "You walked right out of New York and dropped off the face of the earth!"
"Why do you give a crap?" she shouted. "You proved you don't care about me at all when you took that stupid gift!" She ripped the mini microwave from the wall and threw it as best as she can.
"OW!" he yelled, batting it aside. "That hurts!"
"Damn right it hurts!" she snapped. She was holding a glass then, but she didn't realize it. "You have no idea what you did to me! You just ran off to be a god! What was I supposed to do?"
"If you waited, you could've stayed with me!" he shouted.
"Stayed with you? You mean be one of your mistresses?" The words were clipped and cold, and it was clear she hated the thought. The glass in her hand cracked, cutting her hand, but she hardly noticed.
"No!" He dared to come closer. "I wanted to be with you, Annabeth. I became a god so I could give you everything you wanted." She stared at him with wide eyes as he stepped even closer, reaching an arm out to wrap around her waist. "I love you."
She let him press his lips against hers, and the glass dropped to the floor.
"Mommy!"
The tiny voice draws her from her memories. She looks up from her desk to see the child toddle into the room, stopping once or twice to inspect something interesting on her floors.
She leans down to his height. "What is it, sweetie?"
He turns his attention to his mother, grins widely, then thrusts out his fist triumphantly. "Look, Mommy!" he shouts proudly. "I found it!"
She holds out her hand. Her son's new prize drops into her palm, rocking back and forth so sweetly she smiles.
"Do you like it?" he asks when she doesn't answer.
"Of course I like it," she says automatically.
"You didn't even look at it," he protests. "Look!" He jabs her hand with his small finger. She smiles, then looks down. Her smile slides off her face.
"Where did you get this?"
His smile disappears too, replaced by a confused frown. "From a man out there!" He points.
She's running out the door before the last word is out of her son's mouth. It is noon, July 21. The summer solstice. The sun glitters off the water in the beautiful way it always has. The sand is just as stunning, making the Montauk cabin shabby in comparison, but she doesn't care. The cabin was his, and now it's hers, and she will never let it go.
She throws her arms around his neck. He swings her in circles, finally setting her on her feet, but neither of them let go.
"A sand dollar," she laughs in his ear. "You're such an idiot."
"So I've been told." His voice sends shivers down her spine. Her arms tighten around him. Gods, she missed him.
"Mommy?" The tiny voice pipes up from near their feet. They both look down to see the child wrapping his arms around her leg, staring up fearfully at the man who held his mother.
The air left his mouth in a huff. He met her eyes with his green ones, and she smiled softly. He crouches to the boy's height. "What's your name?"
He frowns, still clutching her calf. His mother smoothes his hair. "Peter," she whispers. The boy grins, as if suddenly recognizing the man. "Daddy!"
He scoops the child up, smiling. "Pete," he announces. "I'm calling him Pete, and I don't care what you say." Their grins match.
She smiles softly. "I know."
"Do you really have to go?" There's hope ringing in her voice, though she already knows the answer.
"Zeus will throw a fit if I stay too long." There's sadness in his, as he turns to look at her. The child asleep on his shoulder shifts and grumbles in his slumber. The god smiles, handing him quietly off to his mother.
"He'll miss you," she murmurs, staring into his eyes.
"I know." The green irises are filled with longing as they pore over her face, committing it to permanent memory. "Not dead, remember? Lost at sea." He touches her chin lightly. "Keep him safe. Until it's time."
She nods, holding back the tears. "I hate you so much, Perseus Jackson."
He smiles. "I know." He leans in to kiss her one last time. "But do you love me?"
Her eyes stay closed, trying to feel the ghostly sensation of his lips on hers long after it's over. When she opens them, he's gone, leaving something at her feet.
She shifts her baby in her arms while she leans to pick it up. She lets out a sad chuckle as she wipes a tear from her cheek, rubbing the sand dollar clean.
That word's coming up; the word she's hated ever since it first left his lips so long ago. It's become so much more than just something to remind her why she can't have him. It tells her that he'll love her, that he'll be watching the both of them, until the day she dies.
She laughs now, because she never thought she'd say it again. Fate has a way of putting in front of us that which we most try to leave behind. Her tricky mother. She shakes her head, then plants a kiss on her son's head.
"Yes."