Three

                                    

                                          
Aphrodite's POV
                          
I sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub, holding my fingers under the water as the faucet poured to fill it. Steam was already rising up from the surface. I could hear the soft pounds of Scott's footsteps as he left the bedroom, ready to go take on the world without me and obviously perfectly okay doing so. Frowning, I realized then how hard it was to let him go off on his own, as if he were my child and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him to existence. Forcing my presence at his side during complication was something I'd grown used to, something I found I depended on. It was suddenly funny to me that, after surviving the horrors of my family and submitting to their every whim then fleeing from them and fighting to stay unattached and alone, I was now addicted to tending to my husbands and keeping them safe and sound. They were important, the most important. 
                          
Back off, I told myself, then stood to untie the robe and allowed it to fall from my body.
                          
Before I hopped into the boiling water of the tub, I spotted a little object out of the corner of my eye. Turning to look at it fully, I stared at the razor I used to shave with.
                          
My skin buzzed.
                          
But I could still feel the healing wound on my chest over my heart. It was red and angry from the kiss of a fork, but very much an accident. Something that shouldn't have happened. And I could still see in my mind's eye the desperate need of understanding in Scott's gaze as he'd cleaned it for me, as he'd held me down in bed to keep me from hurting myself again. I could feel his strong and demanding embrace. I could hear his very soft whisper he hadn't thought I'd heard that day too.
                          
"Please don't." He'd breathed, his arms tightening, his weight on me overpowering to keep me still as I'd tried to fight him off in a drugged stupor. "Please don't."
                          
I picked up the razor and flung it across the bathroom. Stepping into the water to bathe, I refused to look at it.
                          
I spent a lot longer in the bath than I should have, but everything had been so quiet and I was still so tired from sleepless nights. I finally dressed and decided I needed to go for a walk around the compound. I pulled on jean shorts and a black long sleeved shirt that was tight around my middle and drooped off my shoulders. It showed off the cut on my chest, but today I didn't seem to care. I applied an orangey-red color to my lips, the color of a flame, and smacked them together, the sound sending a flutter of calmness through my body. Boots were on my feet as I walked.
                          
I strolled around the grounds, shielding my face from the sun by turning away from it. I had my arms crossed and my head down. Scott and Ari were nowhere in sight. I didn't know where they were and reminded myself that they wouldn't like it if I went in search of them. And Scott and I obviously didn't have much to say to each other. Wandering off the grounds and towards the cliffs, I gazed down, so far down and so away from the world. The air was somewhat cool in the mornings, but soon it would heat up. At least I could find shade behind the boulders along the grounds or under the scarce trees on our land. This was my home and I liked the seclusion of it, the fact that no one other than the few men from the gang the cousins still spoke to knew where we were. It was like we'd found another planet entirely to inhabit.
                          
My illusion of pretending everything wasn't falling apart between Scott and I seemed to fall down those cliffs. I stared for a moment.
                          
◇◇◇
                          
After I had decided to go back to the house, I was sitting at the breakfast nook in one of the stools, a full pot of coffee within reach. I stared off into space as Summit approached me. Traces of my lipstick stained the white mug I held in my hands.
                          
He tapped on the steel of a nearby stool. I went back to looking at my black coffee almost nervously. I'd forgiven Summit a long time ago, but even still to this day we hardly ever spoke. It was just our way with each other. To kill the silent awkwardness, he nodded to the fresh steaming pot. "You always make your coffee very strong. You might as well be drinking alcohol."