Chasing Butterflies

by Beckie Stevenson

  I take a quick shower in my en-suite and then pull on some sweats and a tank top. I’m grabbing my bag, ready to leave for the evening, when I hear a knock at the door.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  The door opens and Natalie pops her head around the door. I smile at her. I like Natalie. She’s one of the nicer girls. “Hey,” she says, “sorry to bother you, but there’s a guy asking to see you.”

  I frown at her. “But what—?”

  “I know about the rule,” Natalie interrupts, “but this one seems different. Much different. He doesn’t seem like a pervert who wants to ask you out.”

  I smile at her as I pull my bag onto my shoulder. “And how would you know that?” I’m not convinced. I’ve seen some of the guys that come backstage afterwards, and almost all of them had a convincing story to tell.

  “He says he’s family,” she tells me.

  Family?

  “I asked him if he knew your real name and the boss said he was right,” she continues.

  “I don’t have any family.” And there aren’t many men who would recognise me from just seeing me in my knickers.

  “Oh. Shall I tell him to take a hike then?”

  I want to say yes, but I don’t. Instead, I ask, “What does he look like?”

  “He’s hot,” she says, smiling at me. “Young-ish, but not too young. He looks like a bit of a goth, but a hot goth.”

  “Is it Jez?”

  “Who’s Jez?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at me. “Have you got a man that you didn’t tell us about?”

  I shake my head and smile at her. I don’t know what it is with these girls, but they seem obsessed with my love life. Or lack of love life, I guess. “Never mind.”

  “This guy was the stag in the party you’ve just danced for, so I doubt he’s going to try anything,” she adds.

  The stag? “Okay,” I say.

  “Okay?” she repeats.

  “Yeah.”

  “You want me to bring him in here?”

  “Sure,” I say, shrugging at her.

  She frowns, looking confused. “Just the two of you? I don’t think it’s safe to have him in here.”

  “Make up your mind,” I say through a laugh. “Did you notice any tattoos?”

  “Yeah,” she says, nodding. “He has an arm full of tats.”

  Jez is getting married? “Send him in and have Mark stand outside the door, please.”

  “Okay, but don’t blame me if he jumps you.”

  “He won’t jump me,” I reassure her.

  I drop my bag as Natalie disappears. I feel myself fidgeting, feeling nervous and anxious. I haven’t seen Jez for almost twelve months. Things didn’t really end well for us, and I’m confused about what he could want from me now. I start to pace the room and idly twirl the huge, diamond ring that sits on my ring finger as I try to figure out if I should tell him the truth or not. I always believed telling the truth was the best approach, but the last five years have proved to me that the truth can hurt. A lot.

  There’s a quick knock on the door, but before I can tell him to come in, the door opens. A tall, dark-haired man steps inside my room then shuts the door quietly behind him. It’s not Jez.

  “Jonny,” I say, my voice resonating with shock.

  “Hello, Yara,” he says, stepping closer to me. He sways a little on his feet, and I can tell he’s drunk. “That was excellent dancing up there just now.”

  What do you want? I clear my throat as I shove my shaking hands behind my back. “Thank you.”

  He nods and I watch as his eyes trail all over my body. “You look well.”

  I nod. “I feel well. I am well,” I tell him. “You look great too. And Natalie just mentioned that you’re the stag. Congratulations.”

  He smiles and I instantly feel myself relax. No one smiles like that if they’re here to stir up trouble. “Thank you.”

  “Is it anyone I know? Is it a girl from Eleze?”

  “She’s from Eleze,” he says, “but she’s a little older than me, so I doubt you’d know her.”

  “Oh, okay.” He carries on staring at me and I stare right back. He’s changed. He looks older than he did before, but his eyes are still twinkling as if he knows something that no one else does. I noticed that the first time I saw him, and it made me like him instantly. “So, when’s the big day?”

  “Beginning of March,” he says. “My fiancée wants a daffodil theme.”

  “That’ll be lovely,” I say as I give him a small smile.

  “Gabriel is my best man.”

  And there it is. The elephant has truly made itself known to the room. I take a deep breath, but I don’t avert my eyes. If he’s come here to test me, he’s going to be disappointed. “I’m glad you two are still friends. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely day.”

  He sighs and shakes his head, and then he rubs his hand across his jaw as if he’s annoyed. “I came to ask you for a phone number or an address where he can contact you.”

  I swallow, feeling my heart pound in my chest as sweat glides down my spine. “Did he ask you to ask me?”

  “No,” he mumbles. He blinks a couple of times as if he’s struggling to see.

  “Has he seen me here?”

  “Yes. He was here with me.”

  Shit. “Does he know you’re here now?”

  “No. I haven’t spoken to him. He took off right after your show ended. I knew it was you because of your tattoo. He told me about it when we were younger.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, can I have your number or something?”

  “I can’t give it to you,” I say quickly, feeling the panic shoot across my chest.

  “Yara,” he says, “it’s been five fucking years. Don’t you think he deserves an explanation? Don’t you think after what he went through with Alex and then Jasmine that you at least owe him an apology for running out on him like you did?”

  “Yes, of course,” I say, completely meaning it, “but I can’t.”

  He lifts his chin and looks at me like I’ve dreaded the way someone might look at me. Like I’m a piece of crap he just stepped in. Like I hurt his best friend beyond words. “Why not?”

  “I can’t, Jonny,” I whisper. “I really can’t.”

  “Yara”—he pinches the skin in between his eyes and frowns—“I’ve been his best friend for twenty-four years.”

  “You are twenty-four,” I tell him.

  “Yes, I know. Our mothers had us in matching side-by-side Moses baskets from the moment we were born.”

  “Oh,” I say, trying not to smile as I imagine them being forced to be friends.

  “He’s not right,” he slurs. “He hasn’t been right since the day you left, and I’m scared he’ll never be right. I want you to give me my Gabriel back. You took a part of him with you when you left, and I want it back.”

  He has a part of me too. “You don’t know that he’ll talk to me,” I rush, trying not to think about what he’s saying. “He ran out just now when he could have been here just like you are. If he’s that desperate to speak to me, he would have come here himself.”

  Jonny shakes his head and staggers toward me. “He was shocked. Confused. Probably wondering why the hell you were here of all places.” His hands find my shoulders and I feel myself stiffen at the contact. “Please just give me something. Give me some way of contacting you.”

  “I can’t,” I breathe.

  “You can,” he pushes. “You really can, Yara.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, hating how I can see tears building up in front of his eyes. “When do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow. Midday.”

  I nod and wriggle out of his grip. “I’m sorry, Jonny, but I wish you all the best for your wedding.”

  “No,” he says, shaking his head as his hand darts towards me.

  “Mark!” I call.

  The door bursts open and Jonny’s eyes go wide when he sees our security guy heading right for him.

 
“Yara,” he calls as Mark pulls him across the room. “Don’t do this! Don’t fuck this up again!”

  “I’m sorry,” I call out to him as my own tears wobble in front of my eyes.

  When the door closes behind them, I walk backwards until I hit the wall and then slide all the way down to the floor. What have I done?

  It’s an hour before I dare to leave my dressing room. It’s not that I’m scared of Jonny, but I don’t want to risk bumping into him again. Or worse, Gabriel. When I finally slip out of the side door of the club, I walk as quickly as I can through the alleyway until I get to the main street that leads right into the centre of London. I keep my head down and my bag pulled tightly on my shoulder as I think about what Jonny said.

  I can’t believe Gabriel’s here. That he’s seen me. That he’s still hurting after all this time. What must he think of me?

  I wave to the new security guard who’s name I keep forgetting when I get to my apartment building and take the lift up to my floor. As soon I reach my apartment, I throw my bag into the bathroom and head straight for the fridge. I’ve lost my appetite, but I want to drink until I pass out. I don’t like the feelings that have come back to the surface. I don’t like feeling full-stop these days.

  I’ve just poured myself a nice glass of white wine and taken the first delicious sip when there’s a knock at the door.

  “It’s only me,” Heath calls through the door. “Just checking that you’re home safe.”

  I smile as I walk toward the door. Heath is my cute neighbour that has recently decided he’s going to keep an eye out for me. Apparently, he’s realised that I work weird hours and come home in the early hours of the morning. I haven’t told him what it is that I do, but based on the conversations we’ve had, I think he assumes that I work at the hospital. I’m definitely not going to correct him.

  I pull the door open and lean against the frame, holding my wine glass up to him. “I got home just fine, thank you. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  He wrinkles his nose up. “No thanks. Wine is for girls.”

  I laugh because I know he’s joking. “Oh, okay, tough guy. Beer?”

  “Can’t,” he says with a sigh as he leans on my doorframe. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”

  Good, because I’m actually in no fit state. I smile. “And what time is early?”

  “I’ve got to be at work at five.”

  “What?” I turn around and look at the clock on the wall in my kitchen. “Why are you standing here if you’ve got to be up in three hours?”

  He shrugs. “I can’t sleep until I know you’re home safe.”

  “Heath…”

  “I know,” he says, holding his hands up. “I know I’m weird, but I promise that I’m the good kind of weird.”

  “I’m pretty sure I already knew that,” I say, smiling at him.

  “So when are you going to let me take you out?” he asks.

  “We’ve talked about this.”

  He yawns as he pins me with his green eyes. “We have, and I told you then that I wouldn’t stop asking until you gave me a decent reason. Telling me you’re ‘complicated’ isn’t a good enough reason, just for the record.”

  “It should be.”

  “Well, it isn’t. Complicated turns me on.”

  “Shush,” I say as I push at his shoulder. “Now go home and go to bed. You look disgustingly tired.”

  “I can go all night,” he says through a yawn. “And I don’t mean that I can stay up all night.” He laughs and then says, “Although I can. And so can my little man, that’s actually not so little.”

  “That’s good to know,” I say, giggling.

  “Yes,” he says, standing to full height. “I’m a big, strong man, and I’ve got a big plonker to match it.” He puffs out his chest, then has a coughing fit and has to hold on to the doorframe for support.

  “Plonker?” I ask. “I mean, I’m assuming you’re calling your dick a plonker, but where the hell have you got that word from?”

  “I have many secrets, Yara. And one of them is that I’ve not always lived here.”

  “Where have you lived?”

  “Shut up and go to bed,” he tells me.

  “Hey, that’s my line!”

  When he leans in to kiss me on the cheek, I let him. Just like I do every night. “Goodnight, Yara,” he says.

  “Goodnight, Heath.” When I hear his door click shut, I close mine and slurp the rest of my wine in one go.

  As I’m pouring my next glass, there’s another knock on the door. I take a deep breath, hoping tonight isn’t the night that Heath chooses to try for something more than just a kiss on the cheek. He’s actually really hot and he seems genuinely nice, but I’m not ready to take things further with him. And I never will be.

  I pull the door open again and then stumble backwards when I find Gabriel standing right in front of me with his hands on his hips. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes sweep over him. Like Jonny, he’s aged a little. His eyes seem sad and dull, and nothing like the lively swirls of chocolate that they used to look like. His hair is light brown with the same natural blonde highlights running through it, and there’s a deep tan to his skin that tells me he’s still doing outdoor work.

  But those eyes. He looks dangerous and calm at the same time. Controlled and careful. And I’ve learned the hard way that’s a lethal combination.

  I can tell he’s still in there though. Deep down, he’s still my Gabriel. I know there’s a kindness to him that runs right to his core. I can see he’s sad and scared. I can tell he’s surprised too, and I can’t help wondering what part of me has surprised him the most.

  My eyes move away from his face and down his body. He’s wearing a shirt that’s been left open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s a lot more buff than he used to be, and he was already buff. I let my eyes roam over him once more, savouring every second, and then I look away from him completely.

  “How did you find me?” I ask.

  I hear him take a deep breath, and then he steps right into my apartment and slams the door. His chest collides with my shoulder, and when I stumble into the wall, I feel his hand wrap tightly around my arm as he steadies me. “Those are really going to be the first words you say to me?” he growls.

  I yank my arm out of his hand and look up at him. “I’ll admit they’re not as good as ‘All the blood’s probably rushed to your head by now. And you need to cover yourself up.’ But I’m sticking with them.”

  He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I followed you.”

  Chapter 24

  Gabriel

  “You followed me?”

  My eyes devour her. It’s you. It’s really you.

  Up close Yara is even more beautiful than she used to be. She’s enchanting and a little intimidating, even though I know her inside out.

  No girl has ever come close to making my heart beat as hard as she did. No girl has ever made me love her as hard as she did. Then again, no girl has ever broken my heart like she did.

  When my eyes finally meet hers, I see that Yara looks so frightened that it almost makes me forget the hurt I’ve felt for the last five years. Almost.

  “Yes, I followed you. How long have you been living here?”

  “Really?” she asks. She strides into her living room, standing on the other side of a coffee table, as far from me as she can get. “That’s really the first question you want to ask me?”

  I shrug as I wonder why she feels the need to separate herself from me. “I want to know so much that I don’t know where to start, Yara. Is that what you want to hear? Would that have made this any less fucking awkward?”

  “No,” she says sadly. “Of course not.”

  I sigh, hating how drunk I am. I shouldn’t have had all those glasses of whiskey. My thoughts are jumbled and my vision is starting to blur. I hate that I already know I probably won’t remember half of this in the morning.

 
Maybe I should go. Maybe if I wasn’t so disarmed by how gorgeous she is, the awkwardness between us wouldn’t feel so shit. Maybe I should just tell her that I forgive her—that I don’t care why she ran. Maybe I should just bend her over the table she’s trying to hide behind and fuck her into next year, and then pull my trousers up and walk away from her, hoping she feels just a tiny slither of the hurt that I felt when she left me. Or maybe I’m just thinking a load of shit.

  “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I’ve been sorry every single day since I left.”

  I look at her then and feel like an arsehole for thinking about fucking her in such a distasteful way. Over the years I kept trying to tell myself that she didn’t purposely hurt me. She couldn’t have. I tried to convince myself that she must have really been mentally ill; it was the only explanation I could come up with. But then I remembered the lies she must have told me…the sneaky way she went behind my back to get that guy to lie for her and take her away. Yara clearly wasn’t the naïve young girl that I thought she was.

  “I just want to talk,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t want to argue.”

  She sighs heavily and lifts the glass she’s been holding up to her mouth. It’s then that I see a big, sparkling ring on her ring finger, and I hate her all over again.

  “Arguing with you, especially after all this time, is the very last thing I want to do,” she tells me.

  I glance at the door and then stare at the ring again. I want to ask her who he is. I want to ask if he knows her secrets. I want to know how long it took her to move on from us. “I should go,” I mumble. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  I start to walk away from her. I can’t deal with this now.

  “Wait!” she calls as she walks around the table. “Please. Don’t go, Gabriel. If you’ve come to clear things up, then let’s clear them up. I can’t live with it anymore either.”

  I shake my head. “You look like you’re living with it just fine.”

  “You don’t know the first fucking thing,” she says.

  Her words are so venomous and full of anger that my head snaps up so I can look at her properly. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her swear before. “I know you left me,” I tell her. “I know you lied and acted crazier than you were. I know you put me back together again only to fucking tear me to pieces the second I gave you my heart.”