“Ah,” Pirithous offered a little laugh. He took a bit of his sandwich, talking as he chewed. “What did he do?”

“Something stupid,” she muttered. “I don’t think he sees the problem with what he did.”

Pirithous smiled in his sad way. She got the sense that he understood her situation more than he wanted to admit.

“They often don’t,” he commented.

“I don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “Men just don’t think.”

“That is really a horrible excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse, really. Just a reality. All you can do is keep fighting for what you want. If he wants you, he will work to understand you.”

She pursed her lips, feeling ridiculous. She knew now that she’d overreacted, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She wanted him to feel as betrayed as she felt when she’d learned about Leuce. She wanted him to feel the frustration she’d felt with each passing hour that she hadn’t heard from him. She’d wanted to defy him, just to see if she could get a reaction.

“Am I being irrational?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but emotions are emotions,” he said. “I have been the stupid boy before. I wish I had worked harder.”

Persephone felt she understood the sadness that clung to this man. She wondered what Hades would see if he looked at his soul.

“What stupid thing did you do?”

He took a deep breath. “You will be surprised, I think, given your history.”

Persephone’s brows drew together, but before she could ask what he meant, Pirithous explained.

“I gambled a lot—not the kind of gambling your boyfriend does. I used to bet on the Panhellenic Games. I was good—lucky, I guess. Until I wasn’t. Thought I was doing what was best for my girl and I believed that so much I ignored what was important—her wish that I stop. She didn’t care about the money or the status. She just wanted me.”

He paused to offer a small laugh.

“Gods, I’d give anything for a woman who just wanted me now.”

“What happened to her?”

“She is happily married. Expecting her first child. Strange to watch someone you love move on and assume a life that could have been yours.”

Persephone hoped she would never have to do that.

“I am sorry,” she said, and covered his hand with hers for a moment.

He shrugged.

“I thought I was protecting her,” he paused. “Maybe that’s what Hades thought he was doing for you.”

She had no doubt.

“I wish he would stop. I don’t need protection.”

“Everyone needs protecting,” he said. “Life’s hard.”

Persephone frowned. She’d said something similar to Hades’ once when she’d argued with him about why it was important to forgive mortals. She’d never considered she required the same grace.