Dear Diary

Look at me. I’ve turned into a sappy romantic bitch. “Love me, or I’ll die.” Ugh, I can’t even look at myself right now. And yet, it’s how I feel. Like Dionysos is my future, and I can’t shake it. I don’t want to shake it.

Dear Diary,

I decided to pick you up and try this out for a while, see how it goes. Maybe writing things down will help to keep my storms under control. I’ve been back a couple of weeks now and have been cracking down on planning for the Grand Opening. December 26 can’t come fast enough. Nymphaeum is completely booked except for a small bank of rooms I’ve left available for my family, should anyone decide to show up. I know Dion will, and for that, I am immensely grateful. I don’t think I’d get through the night without him there.

I’m worried most about Poseidon and Nereus both showing. I’d felt my father’s return in the sea but haven’t yet run into him. I haven’t seen P since long before my trip into the Trench and his return from his journey. I don’t know if I’m thankful for that or not. We need to talk, whether here or at home, and it should be soon.

I’ll deal with it if they do show up, as I always do, with class and dignity. If anyone starts causing issues, they’re gone. Oh, who am I kidding? This is my family we’re talking about. There is going to be chaos involved, especially if they come.


I’ve been spending almost every minute at Nymphaeum with Matthieu getting things planned. One night last week, we finished early that night, and I made it home. As I was making some chicken cacciatore, I realized I had made too much. I did that more frequently than I would like to admit, and only some of the time did I bring it down to Dion. This was one of those times. Since we had returned from Guam, I hadn’t seen him much, mainly because of being at Nymphaeum. I missed him, though. He had become such a presence in my life, and so quickly. So, I sent him a text asking if I could bring some food down and hang out for a bit. He said he was in, and I made my way down. Mano was sleeping in his terrarium, and I smiled at the little axolotl before I left. 

Dion poured some wine, of course, it was good. I felt a little awkward. Since the flight home, we hadn’t spent much time together. We hadn’t discussed what happened, and I think I was trying to ease that awkwardness. Somehow, we talked about Sicily through the dinner, and Dion being his usual charming self, offered to go there. I thought sometime soon. He meant immediately. I couldn’t help but be swept up in it, and I agreed. With everything that had happened, I couldn’t count Guam as a vacation. Time away from the resort, yes. But I spent the few days I was there recovering from the ordeal of the Trench, worrying about how I was getting home…and thinking about Dion. 

I have to say, Diary, that the change Dion underwent during the Calling startled me. Not because I don’t like the younger version of him. I do. Very much. But because I remembered that it happened infrequently, and typically when there was a significant shift in his life. I don’t know how long he had been the older version of himself, and I haven’t asked. But the events in Napa shook him so deeply that the young, virile, wild god had to come out. I still didn’t care. We had a connection from the get-go. His looks never played a factor, and now…they were an excellent bonus. 

Mmm…sorry, I just got a shiver, remembering how his hands felt on me. Rough from working the land, and yet tender, loving. 

Dion knew exactly what we needed, that flight home, that weekend in Sicily. It was almost as if he could read my mind. Now there’s a terrifying thought. But anyway, I digress. This is where I dump my deepest, darkest secrets, right? I want to give in, to give my everything to him. We took things slowly before we left, but on the flight, I gave in. We both did. I think we realized how close we came to losing each other, and that yes, we’re immortal, and yes, we have all the time in the world, but some forces could separate us, keep us apart, kill us. Any fears I had melted away when I saw him on that beach.

Our trip to Sicily was perfect, a lover’s getaway. We left the morning after our dinner. I had messaged Selene and asked if she could keep an eye on Mano for a few days. She was very interested in the trip and elated when I told her. I could almost feel the moonbeam from floor five. I had hidden a key for her to get in and told her the location. No, I’m not going to tell you! What if this book falls into the hands of someone disreputable! Don’t worry, she’s returned the key, so my apartment is still safe. 

Sicily, right, I keep getting distracted. A short helicopter flight and a slightly longer jet flight had Dionysos and me on the island of Sicily just in time for lunch. I was astounded by the beauty. I don’t think I’d been to the surface of the island. But the waters were some of my favourite places, and the nymphs in the area had been some of my best friends. But this view was stunning. The wind whipped my hair around my face, and I took it all in. The sun in the sky, the ocean nearby, the salt in the air. Dion right beside me. I could feel his arm around my waist, but I was lost in the beauty of that place. 

He guided me to a villa that looked over the ocean, and I knew that it had belonged either to him or his extended family. It was at that moment I started getting nervous. A weekend alone with Dion. I knew what this meant, even more than all the fun we had on the flight home. This was a definitive step in our relationship. One we still hadn’t discussed. Were we a couple, were we just, what’s the term? Friends with benefits? I didn’t think that was the case. This connection, this bond between us, goes back so far. I felt that my love for Dion, subconscious as it was, went back to Naxos. He told me it had felt like forever for him. I knew we couldn’t be just friends, not now. And I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be more with him. Dating, I think they called it.

Part of me hoped we would come to terms with our relationship status soon. This ambiguous state we were in, while fun, and hot, and so so fucking good, constantly had me wondering if I was just another conquest for the infamous Party God. That thought alone has my stomach-churning. I am slowly getting over my abandonment issues, thanks to Dion. I honestly don’t know if I could handle that. Another notch on the bedpost. Not now. I am done with the frivolity of my youth. I want commitment. I thought I had it before, and then he left, and I…I never recovered. Which is why if Dion is just playing games with me, if I’m just another nymph to chase, to capture, to tame…I will break. 

Look at me. I’ve turned into a sappy romantic bitch. “Love me, or I’ll die.” Ugh, I can’t even look at myself right now. And yet, it’s how I feel. Like Dionysos is my future, and I can’t shake it. I don’t want to shake it.

I just want to give in, to him, to us.

Well, I guess that’s it, Diary. I thought I’d give this a shot. Signing off for now.


Amphitrite (Natalie Bartley)
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