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“How is it possible that it always get better?” I ask.
“Because it’s not just physical, my Zoe, or our perfect fit in search of pleasure, but a meeting of skin, smells, mouths, tongues, and most of all, our souls.”
“Who is she in Odin’s life?”
We’re on our way to New York. Christos has a meeting there. I want to shop for the babies and get a haircut with a Brazilian hairdresser whom Bia recommended. I’m sick of my current style.
When he found out we were coming, Odin invited us to have dinner at his house. According to Christos, a woman will be there: ElinaArgyros.
“If I could guess, I’d say she’s his girlfriend. What other name can you give a couple living together?”
“Roommates?”
He smiles. “Odin with a roommate? My cousin is the most independent human being who ever lived.”
“So were you, Mr. Lykaios, and yet here we are.”
He looks serious for a moment, then unbuckles my seat belt, and leads me by the hand into the bedroom of his—our—plane.
He lies down on the bed and pulls me to his side. “Because I was missing you in my life, Zoe. Even before I met you, I knew I still hadn’t found the right person.”
“How could you know?”
“Souls recognize their other half, even if brains don’t.”
“Even when we fight?”
“Sharing life with someone is not simple, but everything in life is worth it—even your mess.”
“I’m not messy. You are a neat freak.”
“I don’t deny it, but I don’t mind picking up your panties scattered across the closet floor. They smell delicious.”
I laugh so hard I lose my breath. “I don’t even have words to express how perverted that sounded, husband.”
“I thought that point was already established. I’m a pervert, but only when it comes to you, woman.”
“Well said, Christos. I’ve been more jealous than usual. Preserve your life.”
“I’m crazy about you, Zoe Lykaios. How can you feel insecure?”
“Because sometimes I still don’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“That we turned a fairy tale into real life.”
Christos
EPILOGUE TWO
Lykaios Twins’ Birth
It’sas if all the emotions I haven’t allowed myself to feel throughout my life have been accumulated on a mileage card for me to experience with Zoe.
I look at my wife in the hospital bed with a baby in each arm while the nurse photographs her as requested. I can’t move, transfixed by the flood of love that washes over me at the sight of the three of them reunited.
Adonis and Demetrius came into the world like real Lykaioses, screaming at the top of their lungs, announcing their debuts, so no one could doubt there was another generation of arrogant Greeks on the way.
