With a sigh I plopped on the couch and closed my eyes.
I was still in the sundress I'd chosen for tonight and even though the long sleeves were starting to itch terribly I didn't want to get out of them. Didn't want this night to end.
I stretched out my legs in front of me and was again amazed by the beauty of the heels on my feet.
I had no idea that he was going to get me something as stunning as these shoes and seeing as how he didn't ask his assistant, AKA me, to pick something out, this one must have come from the heart.
Or maybe you're just reading meaning into a pair of really, really, would-probably-feed-a-family-of-four, expensive shoes.
I sighed and was pulling my hair into a ponytail when the clink of metal on glass made me look up.
My mom walked out of the kitchen dressed in a grey tank top with brown shorts and holding two white bowls.
"Mom? What are you still doing awake?"
It was almost 12.30 and I'd thought I was the only one in the living room. I must've been in quite a trance because I hadn't noticed the lights on in the kitchen.
"You look surprised to see me. Didn't you hear me greet you when you came in?"
I shook my head as she went round and stretched a bowl out to me.
With my hair securely up I was able to take it from her. I looked inside and my face was instantly misted by steam.
"Woke up with this craving for oatmeal. Made it with your recipe and a drizzle of honey, just the way you like it."
My heart warmed and I smiled up at my mother. "Thanks mom."
She nodded and after raising my leg up, sat down beside me. I rested my legs on her lap.
I had just had a two course dinner and about three glasses of the most exquisite wine I'd ever tasted but I still dug into the oatmeal like I was starving.
Halfway through it I noticed that my mom was staring at the shoes on my feet.
Feeling somewhat self-conscious I put my feet down and went about trying to take them off.
"I see you've gone shopping," she started as she took a spoonful of her oats.
"I haven't gone shopping," I replied like I'd been accused of stealing. I was a bit annoyed that my mother would think that given our money problems I would go off and splurge on something so utterly inane. "These were a gift from a friend."
My mother's blue eyes widened. "Alexandra Emmalynn Elizabeth, tell me you didn't!"
I laughed at my mom's comical appearance as I tossed the shoe I'd gotten off aside.
"Are these . . . from . . . Owen?"
It was like I'd gotten thrown into a lake of ice water. I froze in what I was doing and looked at my mom.
Now I was full blown angry. I loved my mom but she had this knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
My mother had just broken the single most sacred rule and the look on her face showed she knew it too. It had been over two years since that monster's name had been spoken in this house.
"Really mom! How could you even say such a thing? You really think I hate myself so much that I would go anywhere near that ass?" she tried to talk but I stopped her. "Do you really think that I would even entertain that asshole not to mention taking handouts from him? Do you really think I'd ever sink that low ever again? He destroyed me, mom, more than dad ever did. I thought you knew that."
No combination of four letter words could make my blood boil like those.
Owen was the reason I abhorred dating, the reason I wasn't comfortable enough with my body and face that I had to wear a mask, the reason that my walls had walls.
I'd met him during a particularly low point in my life and by the time I realized his brand of abuse was far from physical he had been rooted so deep into my mind that now, two years later, I was still carrying the mental scars.
"I know, Sandy baby. I'm sorry, I realized it the moment the words came out of my mouth."
"I don't think you did, mom, if not your first thought wouldn't be . . . Owen." I spat the word out like it burned my tongue.
Suddenly disgusted with myself I set my oatmeal on the coffee table and literally ripped off the remaining shoe on my leg.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Sandy," my mom started in a small voice. "I just wanted to know how you're doing."
And then I realized that even from wherever on earth he was Owen Hadler still had power over me. But I'd be damned if he was the wedge that separated me from my mother.
I took a deep breath and when I released it I released it with all the anger and bitterness I was feeling at the moment.
"It's ok, mom. I'm sorry for snapping."
She nodded and rested back on the couch with her bowl but she didn't resume eating.
"I suppose it would be tactless to ask who gave you the shoes now."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I felt my heart rate go up at the prospect of telling my mother about my secret affair with my boss.
"I'm a nurse, you won't believe the ridiculous things I hear on a daily basis. Try me," she set her bowl beside mine and faced me fully.
I looked into my mother's expectant eyes and thought about how easy it would be to give into temptation and lie.
But I couldn't, not about something as potentially big as confounding feelings for not just any man or billionaire, Carson freaking Miller. Everyone knew the Miller money and name had been around for generations.
Just like my friends yesterday, I told my mom everything save for the being Butterfly part. I told her up to inviting Carson up to Orlando.
I had no idea what got into me to make such a rash and crazy suggestion.
We might not know exactly what got into you but don't lie to yourself that a pair of smoldering grey eyes and some really skilled lips didn't have a hand in it.
"Back up a bit. So what you're saying is, for the past few days, you've been secretly seeing your very rich and very unforgiving employer pretending to be someone else? Have you completely lost your mind!"
"Mom . . ." I tried to stop her but my mother was already ranting away.
"Oh you unthinking children of now. In what way could this not possibly go wrong? Did the last one teach you nothing, Alexandra Emmalynn?"
"Carson is not like that monster." I defended.
My mom deflated and it was quiet for a while as the only sound was my dog snoring in an unseen corner.
"I haven't lied to him, mom. About my identity, sure, but nothing else."
"And what happens when he finds out? I know you're in Dreamland right now with your head in the clouds but, Sandy baby, he will find out eventually. And what's going to happen then?"
I was expecting the question but when it came it was still so sharp I winced.
I shrugged, hating the way my vision blurred slightly with tears.
It was just my luck. The one time when I finally find someone I really like, it had to be under such weird circumstances.
Owen was right. A useless, messed up hag like me didn't deserve to be happy. I had no idea why I still bothered.
The realization made my bottom lip involuntarily wobble.
"You're right mom. I never should've listened to Inés and Willow. This is stupid. I'll just call and tell him to save himself."
I was about to get up and find my phone when I felt my mother's grip on my forearm.
I looked at her and the loving kindness in her glassy blue eyes was just what was needed to get the tears out. Soon I was wrapped up in her arms wailing like a newborn while she soothingly rubbed my back.
"There, there, Sandy darling. Don't cry. It's ok. I'm on your side baby, always. I just want you to know what you're doing and to have a contingency plan. Hush, it's ok."
She drew me out of her bosom and wiped the tears. "You need to be smart, girl. Decide what you want. I don't want him breaking what's left of your fragile heart."
• • •
It was 7.30 now and I was still very much awake.
I was needed at work in less than thirty minutes but I couldn't bring myself to get ready.
After sobbing on my mother I had retreated into my room intent on calling Carson and explaining how it was a big mistake to continue whatever it was that we were doing when, like he could sense I needed it, a text from him came in.
It was just ten words but it caused my breath to hitch and a painful squeeze in my chest.
And then they lived happily ever after. Good night, doll.
My ringtone rang out and without picking it I knew who was on the other end.
I stretched my hand and grabbed the blaring device from my nightstand.
"Hello?" I murmured.
"Where the fuck are you, Alex? I can't find the Watson file and I haven't had my damned coffee," Carson growled through the phone.
His voice only served to stir up an unusual sort of longing in my hollow stomach and it didn't take long for the tears to fill my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Carson, I don't think I can make it to work today," I confessed, hating the way my voice shook.
Even just saying his name hurt because I knew what I had to do.
After Orlando I would have to forget about him. For both our sakes and before the wild butterflies his touch conjured in my belly turned to blood-sucking vampire bats that consumed from inside.
I heard him release a breath. "Is this about yesterday? Because I . . ."
"No, of course not. I just . . . don't feel good. I'm sure Willow can help you with the file you need."
I managed a pretend cough to back up my point.
"Well then," he finally said. "Get better and while you're at it cancel all my previous engagements for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I'll be out of town. And make sure to forward all the important contacts at the Orlando branch. And don't worry about transport and accommodation, I'll arrange everything for myself."
Carson fired instructions away as if I didn't just tell him I was sick. I could've come down with a life-threatening disease and still had to do my job.
"Of course, I will get right on it."
"I still need that file and someone get me some damned caffeine!" He yelled.
I cut the call.
Poor Willow.
As if her name in my thoughts summoned her, my phone rang with a call from Willow.
"Are you kidding me, Alex? Where are you?" She whispered. Her voice sounded like she was calling from inside a hollow box.
"I can't make it today," I repeated not even bothering to sound sick.
"Are you trying to get me killed? We're a duo here, you deal with the raging beast and I sit at my desk and avoid him," she spoke in a hushed tone just as I heard a crash in the background.
"I think you should probably get going. He likes an ordinary cappuccino and the Watson file is in the file cabinet in my office. Good luck, believe me, you'll need it."
"Alex . . ." she wasn't done with her sentence when I heard her name being yelled.
"Oh and one more thing," I told her. "Don't even think about telling George what I told you at brunch, because this time I will legit end your life."
"Really? I'm about to be murdered in cold blood and that's what you're worried about?" She didn't say more because her name was yelled louder. "I gotta go. Coming!"
I disconnected the cut and returned my phone to its former position.
It felt weird to be at home at this hour and I took my time to gather my thoughts. Morgan hopped onto my bed and I burrowed my fingers into his fur.
I looked around my room, noting how the rising sun glinted off of the vintage records stuck to my blue walls. Looking up I marveled at the glow-in-the-dark butterflies fastened to the ceiling and smiled.
They symbolized freedom and safety and reminded me that no matter what, there was always a reason to smile, we just had to be brave enough to look for one.
When I decided to make a living out of being a part-time DJ, dubbing myself Butterfly seemed like the perfect way to remind myself that there was more to the world.
"So Morg," I took his face between my hands and shook making his dog tag rattle against his collar. "I am free today, buddy, ready to take a bath?"
As if I just poured acid on him my dog growled and bolted out of my grasp. I could hear him crawling under my bed.
"I guess that's a no then," I mumbled to myself.
Deciding to deal with the pooch later, I dragged myself up to go get something to eat before beginning to pack for Orlando. I didn't know why but I had this distinct feeling that Orlando was the key to changing my life forever.
When I got to the kitchen my mother was there, lazily sipping her coffee, dressed fully in purple scrubs, her dark hair securely in a bun.
"Morning mom," I greeted.
"Morning. No work today?" she asked as she took a final sip and dumped her cup in the sink.
I shrugged. "Didn't feel like it. Besides I have to pack, you know, so . . ."
I can go and viciously crush two people's hearts because it was the most logical thing to do.
I didn't finish. I didn't have to. The words were already in the air and thick enough to squeeze my throat.
I cleared the pressure from my throat and grabbed a brown mug from the cabinet.
"You don't have to go, Sandy. You know that right?" my mom asked as I was filling the mug with steaming black coffee.
I didn't answer her, I just reached up to get the sugar.
"You don't have to do any of this. The whole DJ thing, going out at night, sneaking around. It's not too late to give it up. We'll get by just fine with what we're making at our day jobs."
I'd heard all of this before. About a million times. My mother didn't approve of my clandestine activities at night and used every chance she got to remind me of her disapproval.
"It isn't about the money, mom," my voice was hard as stone as I literally threw three cubes of sugar into my coffee and turned to her. "I love music. I go to work every day, I put in my hours and work my ass off, after that I need some way to relax and let off steam. The money is a great addition, sure, but that's not why I DJ. I've told you this a hundred times!"
Groaning I walked over to the chrome-plated refrigerator and sought out the milk.
"I know, darling, but what about your culinary degree? Cooking? You love cooking, you used to spend all your free time creating these amazing dishes."
I stopped and stared at my mom from the top of the door of the fridge.
"Really mom?"
She shrugged unapologetically. "I'm serious, Sandy. You should go back to cooking."
Straightening out I faced my mother. "You know very well why I can't just 'go back to cooking'," I dropped my mug and put air quotes around the words.
Mom sighed. "Baby, I know that Iridia . . ."
"My sister was the reason that I even had the courage to try cooking in the first place and she's not here right now. She's sick and she needs my help. Until she's fine, I'm sorry, I won't just go back to cooking."
Opening the fridge once more I took out the milk and angrily took the top off.
I didn't understand how mom could worry about me when the person who really needed her thoughts was fighting for her life in the hospital.
"You can't put your life on hold forever, Sandy baby, sooner or later you're going to have to focus on yourself. It's what she would want."
I hit the milk carton on the counter with a decisive thud. "Don't you think it's time for you to get to work? Those sick people aren't going to nurse themselves you know."
I hated talks like this. It just made the atmosphere between my mom and I tense for a while.
She sighed. "Fine, my only hope is that one day you'll stop trying to fairy godmother everyone and focus on you."
With that she left me all alone in the kitchen.
I loved my mom, I really did, but most times I believed she forgot that I was a full-grown adult and capable of making my own decisions.
After downing my coffee I took a shower and threw on the first sweater and jeans I laid my hands on.
I pecked my dog and promised to give him that bath when I returned and stepped out into a sunny day.
I got my usual bouquet of irises and headed up to my sister's room.
I had a love-hate relationship with Tuesdays. On the one hand, I got to see my sister and talk to her, on the other, it was not the way I would've wanted it.
Getting into the room the first thing I noticed was that the antiseptic smell of certain death that was characteristic of hospitals was starting to permeate this space.
Not heeding the tears in my eyes I went about discarding the dying flowers and replacing them with new ones.
I gently pushed aside the get well cards as I arranged the flowers.
When I was done I took the only seat in the room and cleaned my face. Her face looked peaceful today. Like she wasn't afraid of what was to come.
Good, at least that makes one of us.
"Hi Iridia, it's Alex, your big sister. I'm back and boy have I got a lot to tell you."
I was aware I was talking to myself but there was something reassuring about the beeping of the life support machine. Like it was recording my words to give directly to my sister.
"So I know I said I swore off men, but I've met one that is scarily making me want to reconsider. I mean, granted, he's my boss, and also granted he can be a prickly dick sometimes but I'm starting to think it's all a front to hide an unusually good heart."
I sighed. "Or maybe I'm just trying to justify why I really like my boss. Mom says it's a bad idea to get too close and a part of me knows. But I keep it up because I guess I like how it feels to matter. To have hands on me that have no ulterior motives."
It was only after I said it out loud that I finally understood why despite the screaming in my head I still met Carson every night.
I was ashamed of my need for validation and I would be the biggest liar on earth if I said it didn't feel good.
I guessed that was why people were hooked on drugs. Even though you know it's bad for you you keep going back because nothing feels quite as good.
Getting my 'Butterfly' phone out I typed out a message on where he would meet me tonight and sent it to Carson.
"Alright Didi, just three more days to enjoy Carson's company then I have to say goodbye forever."
Famous last words.