Chasing Butterflies

by Beckie Stevenson

  “Okay,” I tell her. “She wasn’t always okay, but she’s getting there.”

  She nods and I see her chin wobble, but then she turns her head away from me. I can tell she’s done telling me her story. Whatever reason she has for leaving me, she’s not going to confess to it. I can’t hang around here forever, waiting for her to decide she’s ready. “I’d better go,” I say when I notice the time. “I have to get back to the hotel and pack my things.”

  “I’ll call you a taxi and walk down with you,” she says.

  When Yara stands up and looks at me, I can tell she’s sad, but I don’t know why. She’s clearly moved on with her life.

  She takes a deep breath and starts to walk past me, but I can’t just let this be how we say goodbye. I grab her arm, forcing her to spin around, and then I crush my lips to hers.

  And it’s like I just got an electric shock to my heart.

  “Oh god,” she groans when I push her lips open with my tongue. I want her so badly that I can’t stop my hands from wandering all over her body. When our tongues touch, it’s like someone has flipped a switch in us.

  Yara’s hands are in my hair, and then they’re cupping my face and dancing down my back. I feel her tugging at my t-shirt, but I push her hands away and guide her back until we collide with the window behind her. She wraps her arms around my neck and lifts herself up into my arms, curling her legs around my back. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles in between kisses.

  She tears her mouth away and starts to kiss all down my neck. I wrap my hand around her wrist, feeling the thump of her pulse on my palm. I slam her hands back against the glass above her head and dip my head, pressing my lips against the hollow of her neck. She tips her head back and groans.

  I pin myself against her as I press the bulge in my trousers into her. I want her to know what she still does to me. I want her to know how fucking bad I still want her. Then I feel the diamond bite against my hand and I rear back, forcing her legs from around my waist so she drops back down in front of me.

  “What?” she asks, panting. “What is it?”

  “You’re better at that,” I tell her.

  I see hurt flick across her face, but then her eyes narrow in confusion. “What just happened?”

  “This,” I say, pulling her hand up and shoving it in front of her face. “He happened, Yara. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have followed you back here. I have to go. I’m glad you’re doing better.” I know that sounded pretty lame, but I’m not exactly going to tell her that I’m over the fucking moon that’s she’s banging the shit out of someone every night and he must be thrilled with it because he’s asked her to marry him. No, I’m not going to say that.

  Before she can say anything else, I spin around and walk out the door. I let it slam shut behind me and almost run down the five floors until I’m in the foyer.

  Yara

  Staring at the huge, Tiffany engagement ring that sparkles at me, I suddenly feel sick. And stupid. I can’t believe I let him see it.

  I pull my clothes back into place and then take off after him. I can’t let Gabriel leave like this. Not when things finally felt like they were okay between us. Not when it finally felt like he could move on from me. From us.

  I take the lift, thankful that it’s empty for a change, and jab the button for the ground floor. I look at myself in the mirror, noticing the blush that’s crept all over my chest, and then I see the ring twinkling at me so I shove my hand behind my back.

  As soon as the door opens, I run through the foyer, completing ignoring the guy behind the desk. Standing on the pavement, I search for him until I spot him walking quickly in the opposite direction.

  “Gabriel,” I call. I start to run after him, but then I see him putting his hand out as a taxi approaches him. “Stop!”

  I run as fast as I can until I’m behind him. “Gabriel,” I breathe as he pulls the door open. “It’s not what you think,” I tell him, putting my hand on his arm.

  His eyes move to the ring, and then he looks up at me. “It looks like an engagement ring to me.”

  I nod. “Well, it is. It was,” I correct. “But it’s not anymore. Now it’s just something I wear to keep men from trying to pick me up when I’m at work.”

  He frowns, looking completely confused. “So you’re not engaged to anyone?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I was, but that’s over. Finished.”

  He flinches as if he still doesn’t like what I’ve said. “So what do you think is going to happen now?”

  I blink, feeling shocked. I wasn’t expecting him to put me on the spot like that. “I thought that’s why you came here. Why you followed me.”

  “I came for answers, Yara, which you still haven’t given me.”

  “I have,” I protest.

  “Why did you run on that particular morning?”

  I rear back. “What?”

  “Why didn’t you wait to say goodbye? Why did you get that guy to lie and take you away?” He leans down and holds two fingers up to the taxi driver. Shit, two minutes isn’t enough. “If you wanted to cool things off between us or go and get professional help, you could have just told me. I’d have let you go.”

  I feel a lump in my throat and try to swallow to make it go away. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then tell me what it was like,” he demands. “You begged me to make love to you a few hours before you left.”

  I can’t tell him. I won’t ever tell him. “I know.”

  “Did you know then that you were going to leave me?”

  “No.”

  “So, what? You woke up and just decided you were going to leave that day?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, feeling the shame and guilt wash right through me.

  “Why?” he breathes.

  “I just did.” I look up, but when my eyes catch his, Gabriel turns his head and looks away from me.

  “People don’t just do shit like that for no reason, Yara. They don’t just walk away from someone that they claim to love and disappear off the face of the earth for five years.” He looks down at the ground and shakes his head. “There must have been a reason.”

  Oh god. This is it. Tears spring at my eyes as I stare at him. He can’t even bring himself to look at me.

  “Tell me,” he demands. Then he suddenly turns and grabs my elbow. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t!” I shout as I struggle against his strength.

  “So there is a reason? You just don’t want to tell me.”

  “Yara? You okay?” I look up to find Heath inches away from Gabriel.

  Gabriel releases me immediately as Heath sizes him up. “She’s fine,” Gabriel says.

  Heath turns from him and looks at me. “Yara?”

  I nod and try to smile at Heath. The last thing I want is for him to get caught in the middle of this.

  “Is this the guy?” asks Gabriel, nodding toward Heath.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “What guy?” asks Heath.

  “If you’re not the guy, then it’s none of your fucking business,” Gabriel says, giving me the death stare.

  “I’m fine, Heath,” I say. “I’ll talk to you later. I promise.”

  He hesitates, so I nod and smile at him again, hoping he’ll leave us alone.

  “Okay,” Heath says. “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I tell him.

  Gabriel and I watch as he walks away from us. Heath keeps looking back until he’s at our building and it makes me realise that Heath really is a nice guy. He cares for me and I need to make sure I explain myself to him later.

  “Will you ever tell me?” Gabriel is more composed now, but he can’t mask the sadness. I wish he knew how sorry I was for making him feel like that.

  “I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.”

  He sighs, sounding defeated, and then pulls open the door to the taxi. “Goodbye, Yara.”

  Tears threaten my eyes, but I bli
nk them away. Crying won’t help. Crying won’t stop Gabriel from getting in that taxi and going back to Eleze. “Goodbye, Gabriel,” I whisper as my voice and heart completely break.

  Gabriel

  I’m delirious from exhaustion when I finally get home hours later. I lean over the seat and hand the taxi driver some money. Thanking him, I then climb out of the back with my bags.

  As the car drives away, I stare at my cottage, hating how lonely and empty it feels—and I’m not even inside yet. I moved in a year ago, but it still doesn’t feel like home.

  Mum decided to sell the big house because we didn’t really need the space anymore, and she gave me some cash so I could buy this place and start up my own business. She hasn’t been in the best shape recently, but I think selling the house and buying a little cottage of her own has helped. There were too many memories and reminders in our old house.

  I push open the front door, dump my bag in the hallway and trudge up the stairs. I only managed a little nap on the plane because I was kept awake by the guys as they talked about what else they’d managed to get up to while we were away. Now my body feels like it’s hit a wall.

  I take a quick shower because I can’t stand getting in a clean bed when I’m dirty. After climbing in bed without bothering to put on clothes, my eyes instantly close. Unfortunately, my mind isn’t cooperating with my tired body. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Yara, and I hate that I’m consumed by her again. I thought I was over her.

  Obviously, I’m not.

  Chapter 26

  Yara

  Christmas in London is lonely and boring. I stare out the window at the dreary day and feel just as empty as the streets.

  When I was younger, I used to imagine how I’d spend Christmas when I was an adult. I made a promise to myself to make up for all the crappy ones I’d as a child. I promised myself I’d throw parties and have a house full of people. I swore I’d never be alone again on Christmas Day. But I am.

  I always imagined I’d have friends, people that liked me and wanted to spend time with me. I’d get carried away with my daydreams about being with a man at Christmas. I’d imagine us waking up in bed together, cuddling with one another while wishing each other Merry Christmas. We’d make love in front of the log fire and the snow-covered window. We’d sit by the tree, drinking champagne while exchanging presents.

  I smile as I think about it. I was always in love in my daydreams, even before I met Gabriel and knew what true love really was. There was always a handsome man in my dreams—a man that loved me unconditionally.

  Not only was that dream completely ridiculous, it was also unrealistic. The men I’ve met over the years were never the sort of men to spend a Christmas morning showering me with love like that…except Gabriel. Out of all of them, he’s the only one I could imagine treating me like that.

  I sigh, knowing that dwelling too much on Gabriel—what could have been—is a waste of time. It’s pointless, just like I once told him. It’s done. It’s never going to change, and I have to accept that. I have to live with it and move on.

  I turn away from the window and stare at my Christmas tree. It took me three hours to dress it and fill it with all the decorations I’d collected over the years. I might have known that I wouldn’t be sharing this day with anyone and that no one else would even see my tree, but I still went ahead and got the biggest one I could find that would fit in my living room. I think my psychiatrist would have something to say about that.

  The microwave dings, letting me know my roast turkey meal for one is done. I light the candle on the table as I walk past it and then pour myself another glass of champagne.

  As I’m eating my pathetic Christmas dinner, I can’t help but think about how I wish I could go back in time. I’d change everything except him.

  I’ve been kidding myself over the last five years. I’ve pretended I was fine. I convinced myself that my heart wasn’t really broken…that I’d get over him. I haven’t.

  I’ve always stopped myself from thinking like this before now, but now I’ve seen and felt him again, I can’t stop the thoughts from tumbling around in my head. Yes, it hurt when I left him, but I took it as a punishment for what I’d done.

  Seeing him here two weeks ago and feeling the way my body and heart reacted to him has made me realise that no man will ever come close to making me feel how he made me feel. There aren’t many things in my life that I believe were meant to be, but I think he was one of them. I think he was always supposed to be the boy that I fell in love with. The boy I gave my heart to.

  I loved Jez. We were good together, even if some of the things he was involved in scared the living daylights out of me. He treated me well. He loved me. I know he did. But I just couldn’t love him back as much as he loved me—not properly anyway—and that’s what destroyed us in the end.

  It wasn’t the drugs he used to carry, or the way he’d come home bloodied and bruised from the illegal fights he took part in. It wasn’t that he swore like a trooper or never put the toilet seat down. I just couldn’t love him like I loved Gabriel. And while he might have felt like I loved him like I should have, I knew I didn’t. It wasn’t fair to him continue believing I did.

  He couldn’t understand how I could still be in love with a boy that I had a “crush” on when I was sixteen. I tried to tell him that it was much more than that, but he didn’t believe me. It took a pregnancy scare—and how badly I reacted at the thought of having his baby—to make him see that I wasn’t right for him. He told me he was glad I was leaving when I eventually told him, and I don’t blame him for a single second.

  The shrill ring of the telephone jolts me from my thoughts. My cutlery clatters against my empty plate and I push out of my seat, trying to remember where I last had the phone. I find it under one of the many pillows I have scattered on my sofa and jab the answer button.

  “Hello?” I say, wedging the phone between my jaw and my shoulder as I tidy the pillows back up.

  “You alone?”

  The shock of hearing his deep, gravelly voice after all this time makes me drop the pillow I’m holding.

  “Yes,” I finally whisper.

  “I’m outside,” he says.

  “How did you know where I was?”

  “Oh, come on,” he says. From the way his voice quirks, I know he’s smiling as he speaks. “You should know by now that I have ways and means of doing whatever I want, Yara.”

  Of course he has. “What do you want, Jez?”

  “Just to talk.”

  I walk toward the door and lean against the wall with the phone pressed against my cheek.

  He knocks on the door. Three times. Steady and sure. I stare at the door, not knowing what to do. I don’t imagine he’s here just to wish me a happy Christmas, but I’m curious too. Why now? Why today?

  Fuck it, I think. I turn the handle and pull the door wide open.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” he says, smiling at me. Without even waiting for me to answer, he grabs the phone out of my hand and throws it behind me. I hear it bouncing off the sofa and onto the floor.

  I can’t help but smile back at him. He looks just as good as I remember. His dark, unruly hair is as messy as always, though it’s a little longer than I’m used to seeing it. His sparkling green eyes sweep all over me as I stand back and take him in.

  He’s wearing all black. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear any other colour than black, but he looks good in it. His bulging muscles scream against the tight fabric of his t-shirt as he reaches up and strokes my face with the back of his fingers.

  “Merry fucking Christmas,” he says.

  I laugh and stand back, letting him in my apartment as my eyes trail all over him again. God, he’s lovely.

  “Like what you see?” he asks, smirking at me.

  I don’t answer him because I do like what I see. If only it were enough.

  “What are you doing here, Jez?”

  He sighs and tucks a piece of my hair
behind my ear. “I didn’t like the thought of you being alone on Christmas.”

  “I’m fine,” I say quickly.

  “Huh, is that so?” I watch his eyes moving around the room. “Dinner for one, Yara?”

  “Yes.”

  I follow him as he makes his way across my living room. He stands in front of the window, the same window Gabriel kissed me against a couple of weeks ago, and looks out across the London skyline. “I thought you’d be with him.”

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Gabriel.”

  Oh.

  “Why aren’t you?” He turns his head so he’s looking at me over his shoulder and frowns at me. “You should be.”

  Now it’s my turn to frown. This isn’t what I was expecting. “I can’t. There are things that you don’t know about. Reasons why I can’t be with him.”

  “Don’t give me that,” he says. “You might think they’re reasons, but he might not. You haven’t given him a chance to make that decision for himself.”

  I open my mouth but then shut it again. Talking to Jez about Gabriel feels weird.

  “He’s alone today too, you know. I checked there to see if you were with him first,” he says, staring at me, waiting for a reaction. When he doesn’t get one, he raises an eyebrow and turns back to look out of the window.

  “What’s all this about?” I ask, taking a step towards him. “I don’t understand.”

  He sighs and leans forward until his forehead rests against the cool glass. “I love you,” he tells me, “so it kills me to know that you’re not happy. Even though I hate the thought of you being with him, I wish you were.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know you’d be happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. You deserve to be happy, Yara.”

  I swallow the lump that feels like it’s stuck in my throat and stare at him. “Why are you being so nice?”

  Smiling, he says, “Wasn’t I always nice?” Then he shakes his head, but I don’t know why. “I’m not going to deny that you hurt me. But I know you didn’t do it on purpose, and I know you tried to love me. It still hurt though, and that’s why it’s taken me so long to come and see you.”