She caught his wrist and pressed his palm flat against her stomach, right where she would soon feel their child. “I’m not angry, Odysseus.” she whispered. “I’m pregnant.”
“…What?” The color leached from his face.
Someone behind them hollered, but Penelope’s eyes stayed trained on Odysseus, desperate for him to speak. Was it too soon? They had been married just over a year… Did he not want to be a father?
Her heart was lodged in her throat, feeling too small under his emotionless expression. Her hand twitched over his, searching his eyes for anything.
“Odysseus,” she whispered finally, unable to sit in the silence any longer. “Please, say something.”
Odysseus’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he stared at her, his hand frozen over her belly, a trembling tension building in her limbs. The light of the fading day caught his face, highlighting the raw vulnerability in his eyes.
His thumb brushed over the skin of her cheek before he spoke, voice cracking slightly. “A child… we’re…”
Penelope’s heart swelled, but she didn’t dare interrupt. She needed him to say this. She needed to hear it from him.
“A son or a daughter,” he muttered, as though the question could resolve the thunderstorm raging behind his eyes.
She shook her head softly, pressing his hand to her belly once more. “Does it matter?” Her voice trembling just like his. “Do you want this?”
“Want this?” He asked, borderline incredulous. He released his grip on her, running a hand through his ragged hair. “Penelope, I…”
Her heart lurched. He hadn’t answered.
In a sudden burst of movement, his hands were on her hips, and she was pulled into him. His arms slipped around her waist, and she was spinning in the air.
She was breathless, but found purchase around her mad husband’s neck. She laughed, throwing her head back.
He stilled, but did not release her, her feet still off the ground. “My wife, carrying my child.” He whispered, for her ears alone. His eyes shone, sparking in the evening sun with tears ready to be shed. “I am the luckiest man in the world.”
He set her feet on the ground, but did not loosen his grip on her. Odysseus bent down, capturing her in another kiss. This time, she did not shy away from his affection, moving her lips against his, matching his rhythm.
“I love you,” she whispered against him, fingers clutching at the hair on his neck. She grinned. “You thought I was angry.” Penelope laughed, boneless in his grasp.
“I know my wife, and she has never once denied me a kiss.” He said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “What was I supposed to think?”
The grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth was radiant. She was blinded by the sheer force of him.
“Oh,” she gasped, untangling herself from his grasp. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.” She grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the door.
50
HE WAS RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS, running out of time. The winter winds blew cold over the palace, each chill reminding Odysseus of how little time he had left to secure safety for his wife and son.
He stood in the armory, looking over helmets he had once worn, shields he had once carried. A different man had these forged - for battles, for triumph.
Odysseus smiled inwardly, allowing his thoughts to drift back fondly to the man who had donned this armor. That Odysseus was the man that had won Penelope’s heart. The man that supported his kingdom.
That Odysseus was the man that Penelope loved. The man that Ithaca followed.
That Odysseus was the man that left for Troy.
Odysseus wasn’t sure he was that man any longer.
With a sigh, he lifted his old helmet off of a pedestal, tucking it under his arm. One last campaign. One final move on the board.
His feet felt leaden as he made his way to the olive grove, each step a little harder than the last. Odysseus had never been one to grovel, too proud to bend a knee and beg the gods forhelp. But he had learned a long time ago that some things, some people, were worth the fall.
This would be the second time since returning home that he would plead with the gods for his wife. For his son.
