I loved this book right up until the last paragraph. I still loved it after I read said last paragraph, I was just really sad that it was the last paragraph. I have a real knack for getting to the end of a book and being left with a "that's it?" feeling. It's not my place to say how an author should end their own book, and I'm sure I'm the one who is the problem, but it's just so jarring!

This premise was right up my alley. Hestia was such an interesting character, and there were so many elements of this plot that would make a book I was excited to read.

"I petitioned the goddess: Please, don’t make me seek love, not yet, it’s too soon and I’m too much of a mess. But, maddeningly, I also seemed to want a passionate romance, and instead he seemed merely content. I was the perfectly acceptable person he was with at the moment. I was not the person he stayed up late at night thinking about. I checked the boxes, but I wasn’t a whole new checklist or anything. And apparently, I wanted to be a whole new checklist."

"What turned me off most about him was his honesty. He seemed like a person who couldn’t stop himself from telling the truth, and I knew myself well enough to know that I needed some pretty lies. A whole bunch of pretty lies, actually, except that I needed them to be mostly true. Magical, pretty lies, like, You’re the woman of my dreams, or I’ve waited my whole life for you."

“When you’re expecting a child,” said my mother, “you imagine yourself with a baby.” “I understand,” I said. “There’s a failure of imagination,” she said. “You never imagine being the mother of a forty-five-year-old woman who’s alone.” I saw how they pitied me, how terrible they felt."