The Butterfly King

So what should she do?

She sat there watching the moon shimmer on his hand as she struggled to find something to say.  Here he was…there they were…the first time they had been alone since he had been home.  He watched her from the corner of his eye, half smiling as her star earrings glittered and bobbed with each breath she took.  She was aware of his gaze, and it only made her catatonia worse.  It only made the loneliness expand to the corners of her heart.

He was leaving her.
Well…he had already left her.

Tonight was a formality for the sake of bills they shared.  She was collecting money, but she really came for the truth.  Why had he left her?  After all those months she’d waited for him faithfully, changing her life and making room for him to be in it, he came home and without rhyme or reason, acted as if nothing they had shared ever existed.  He called a few times, came over once…and then…nothing.  Not a word for weeks.  And oh, how that had hurt.  How many cigs had she smoked, how many glasses of vodka had she devoured, how many sleepless nights had she laid in bed crying shamefully into her pillow?  How many times had he broken her heart?  Why was she even here?  Was she crazy?

Finally, they both turned, and sat silently as they stared into each other’s souls.

So much hurt they have caused.  So many lies they have told.  So many heartbreaks they have suffered.  They needed to get away from each other.  The truth was all told now and nothing could change that.  She had been with another man, he had betrayed her with other women, and though their words were resigned and forgiving, the doubt, blame, and shame blazed on their skin.  She had known about the women.  She had pretended that she didn’t, but she had known.  He, however, had no idea she had slept with her ex, and when she had said it to him, he’d fell back in his seat as if she had punched him.  He’d looked stricken…and with that look she realized something; he still cared.  And she cared that he cared.  But all that was too late.  He should have come sooner.  He should have said he loved her.  He should have…he should have…he should have stayed…away…

She bit her bottom lip and inclined her head with the sadness pooling in her eyes.  He watched her intently…his eyes skipping from her eyes, her forehead, her lips, her cheeks, her ears, and then back to her eyes…and he saw her floundering.  He saw the fight leave her and noticed the slight shake of her head as if she were about to announce something terrible.  He saw the tears standing in her eyes and watched the corners of her mouth dip into a pout.  He came at her then…his mouth crashing gently into hers…his tongue tasting her lips.  She was startled and stiffened, but instead of pulling away, she came forward…falling into him, falling into his kiss, falling back into love.  And there were the butterflies again, fluttering like mad against her ribcage and making her heart pound.  She only has them when she’s with him.  No one else makes her feel this way.

Love.

This was what she remembered…the taste of his mouth, the lightness of his breath, the urgency in his movements as he would capture, tease, and release her mouth over and over again.  There was safety in that.  There was comfort in the familiarity.  And there was love.  Always love.  Even with all the heartbreak, her love for this man had never left her.  She would be a fool to stay with him after everything he had done…but she would be a lost fool if she were to leave him.

He sat back and she turned away, her dreamy eyes staring back at her in the rearview window.  She remembered that girl.  She knew that girl.  She had missed that girl…that girl that believed so deeply in love.  She exhaled and turned to look at him.

“Okay,” she sighed.
“Okay?” he replied.  Two fat tears spilled slowly down her cheeks as she bit her lower lip.
“Yeah…” she said, nodding…her eyes staring past him and into the dark.  Was that regret already?  Should she say forget it and leave?  Should she just let it go?  Yes…she would go.  She would tell him it was a mistake and she deserved better.  

But he smiled and leaned forward and kissed her again, and she forgot all about it.  She forgot everything but the butterflies fighting in her stomach, making her giddy with anxiety.  Nothing else mattered.  Not dignity, not titles, not broken promises.  

Nothing mattered…

nothing but the flight of the butterflies.