Here's the passage with added sensory and emotional texture, brought to length:
POV: Aphrodite
Love doesn't divide. It multiplies.
I didn't understand that until right now, sitting in the middle of everyone I love with the late afternoon sun coming through the trees in long slanted columns, warm where it finds skin and cool where it doesn't, and Lyra's hands moving carefully through my hair with the gentle deliberate focus of someone doing something small on purpose. I think about how long I spent believing that wanting more than one thing meant you were greedy or broken or asking for something the world wasn't going to give you. How long I spent managing that belief like it was a fact rather than a fear.
