It has been a very long night, and I am exhausted. If ever I doubted that the power of free will is the most potent gift the Father-King has ever bestowed on his children, I know it now. I cannot protect someone against something they have chosen for themselves. I can cajole and warn and plead, but I cannot compel, not even if it is for the good of my charge.
But then, I do not always know what is best for them, it seems.
Pamela woke this morning bathed in sunshine, her hair flung around her, her body loose and languid and her spirit fully at rest. She could hear Lyle in the shower, and the thought of him made her smile. She got up to get dressed and had coffee ready for him by the time he came out. I watched in some bemusement as they shared a flirtatious breakfast and then went their separate ways, he to work, she to meet Alice and Clay for some exploration of the city.
It is very different from Pamela’s other assignations. In the past when Pamela has met with a man, there was no real companionship, just simply distraction from her troubles in physical pleasure. Sex to her has been an escape, and has meant nothing in the long run. Because of the disdain she’s held in her heart for these men, I believed that these meetings would be hurtful to her, dulling her hopes for a meaningful relationship, and I have done everything I could to discourage them. Conversely, I have kept her apart from Andrew, knowing that when one of two sex partners is more emotionally invested than the other, it can also cause pain. To hope for something that cannot be is a dangerous thing.
It is as we Cupids have been taught from a young age: physical love is powerful but treacherous, and when handled poorly, it can be devastating.
With Pamela and Lyle, I faced both problems at once. It was possible that he would be just another partner for her, another blow to her standards. It was also possible that she would fall for him—or he for her; I should not forget that he too deserves protection—and the near-immediate separation would break her heart again. I did not want her to feel that pain.
But Pamela has proved to be stronger and wiser than I expected. She met Lyle at a busy train station and took command of the evening from there, locating the restaurant she had wanted to try and procuring the table for the two of them. They stayed almost an hour after the last bite of dessert had been eaten, leaning close over the fresh flowers at the center of the table. The evening had a strange aura to it, a sweetness and a warmth that usually only comes with long acquaintance. Perhaps it was the very knowledge that their relationship would be temporary that took away the pressure to make it last. Whatever the reason, I began to be uncertain when I saw that glow around the two of them.
As they returned to the station, Pamela took a breath to say that she should be on her way, but Lyle caught her elbow and pulled her close. For a moment he only held her, gazing down at her with a tender smile on her face. At first she was surprised, but then her face softened into the same smile. And they kissed, and it was slow and soft and sweet and all that a Cupid might hope.
“Come home with me,” Lyle murmured.
This was the most difficult moment of the evening for me. It was my impulse to cut straight through the haze of romance in Pamela’s aura, to bring cold reality crashing down around her. But how could I do it? For months now she has been building her confidence, strengthening her spirit for a new beginning in her life. Now that she is here, glowing and assured and admired, how could I with my own hand cut her down again?
I am glad I did not act on that first impulse. Instead, I stood close behind her, wrapping her in my wings and whispering in her ear.
She took a step back from Lyle, still smiling. “I do really like you,” she said. “And I want to have sex with you. A lot.”
He laughed, but recognizing her tone and respecting it, he too stepped back, keeping hold of her hands only. I liked him better for it.
“But I’m only here for another ten days,” she said. “And I’m not getting into anything serious. I won’t be just a toy, either.”
Lyle raised his eyebrows. “Then what is it you want of me, madam?” he said, his tone light.
Pamela lifted one hand and ran her fingertips down the side of his face. “I want to enjoy myself,” she murmured. “I want to go back home with no regrets.” She leaned closer, slipping back into his arms. “Seize the day, right?”
He laughed and kissed her. “No regrets,” he said against her mouth. “Your wish is my command.”
They went back together then, to his flat which is indeed not far from where Pamela is staying, and they stayed together the whole night. I stayed close, worrying, but Pamela has made her choice, and for now it seems her wish is coming true—she regrets nothing.
Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps there is such a thing as being too cautious.
I will continue to watch, of course. It is my fondest wish that Pamela leave this place with no regrets. But we all know that anything can happen in the stolen Earth.