"Punch him in the face for me too," Mary said, her voice low and grumbling. "It's the third time that little shit has used me." Besides, Mary still saw Eros as the reason she lost Huitzilopochtli in the first place. It had been that bastard's arrow that had taken his love from her and given it to one of his own. Maybe if that had never happened, she and Huitzilopochtli would still have been together.
(Wishful thinking, too many difficulties, so many differences. Her hummingbird was always going to leave her. Mary knew that much.)
"Tell me honestly," Mary said, looking at him. "Is there any chance that you and I could be close again? We were friends once, weren't we?"