Love Goddess

She screwed up her face and quickly swiped left. What were these men thinking? Did they not, at some point, take a look at the photo they were offering up and reconsider their choice? Most of these badly-taken photos would not be out of place as mugshots on America's Most Wanted. 

She went to switch off the app and suddenly stopped, a small smile playing across her face. Now, this was more like it. Ares, 27, Mount Olympus. Hobbies: spear throwing, chariot racing, and boar hunting. Without hesitation, she swiped right. She sighed with relief. It was a match.

Moments later, he messaged her. "Hey, Aphrodite, nice pic. Love to show you my skills as a swordsman. Wanna hook up?"

Aphrodite smiled again. Arrogant, beautiful man. She put the phone down. She wouldn't answer for a moment or two. She didn't want to appear too keen. She lay back on the chaise lounge, lifting her silky blonde hair in her hands and allowing it to fall and spread across the luxurious fabric of the headrest. She stretched her long, lithe legs out in front of her and arched her back sensuously, imagining the rendezvous which was sure to come. 

"Aphrodite."

She turned her head at the sound of her husband's voice. Hephaestus stood hunched over in the doorway, his plain face etched with pain. Slowly, carefully, he made his way across the room, his walking stick tap-tapping on the polished wooden floors. Aphrodite made no move to help him. Curse Zeus for trapping her in this marriage to a man she could never love.

"Aphrodite." Hephaestus stopped in front of her, his eyes bright with adoration despite the pain of his crippled leg. "I thought we could....," he hesitated, summoning his courage, ".... I thought we could order in pizza and have a quiet night together. Just the two of us." 

The hope in his voice pricked at Aphrodite's heart for just a moment. She looked at the man from under her thick, dark lashes, her wide blue eyes holding his just long enough to give him a surge of confidence. Then she turned away and picked up her phone. "I'm sorry. I've made other plans."