Butterfly by Nelle L’Amour
CHAPTER 50
Roman
There must be some kind of power outage. Not a light is on anywhere. A chilling, early fall wind slaps my face as I ring the bell. Not a sound. It must not be working, so I knock on the wood door. My heart hammers like a jackrabbit’s as I await someone to open it. My emotions are in turmoil, dread and desire at war. I don’t know how I’ll react, what I’ll say if Sofi comes to the door. Nor how she’ll react when she sees me. It’s been over three long weeks. Almost a month. She said goodbye to me once. Will she say goodbye to me again? I rap on the door again, so hard my knuckles hurt. Nada. The power outage must be some kind of sign. Maybe I should just turn around and go back to the city. As I’m about to pivot on my heel, the door swings open. It’s Sofi’s father, Paul. Wearing a plaid flannel bathrobe, he’s holding a flashlight and beams it at me.
“Roman, what are you doing here?” His tone is icy cold.
“I’ve come to deliver Sofi’s paycheck.”
His eyes narrowing, he sees right through me. “That’s not really why you’re here.”
I suck in a steeling breath. “I’ve come to see her. How is she?”
“She’s been depressed. But she won’t talk about what happened to either me or her mother.”
“It’s complicated.” That’s the understatement of the century. Our entwined lives are more twisted than the most twisted soap opera.
“I don’t think she wants to see you.”
My heavy heart sinks.
“Roman, did you hurt her?”
“No, sir. Fate got in the way. I can explain.”
Her father’s brows arch with curiosity while he ponders my words. Then, his face relaxes. “It’s chilly outside. Come on in if you don’t mind sitting in the dark. The power went out about an hour ago from the high winds, but it should be back on shortly.”
A few minutes later we’re seated in the candlelit living room. Facing me, Paul looks paler and thinner than when I saw him last. Maybe Sofi’s depression has eaten away at him. He listens quietly as I tell him about what I’ve learned. He admits to having used an egg donor and the reasons, and I explain the error in the genetic testing. If he’s shocked by the bizarre, bittersweet twist of fate, he doesn’t show it.
“Is this why you’ve come here, Roman?”
“I’ve come here because I love your daughter.”
Darkness and silence. A lethal combination. Finally, Paul ends it. “Son, fate is God’s way of dealing cards. It’s meant to be that you and Sofi should be together.”
I’m stunned by his response. “You’re okay with that?”
“Yes, I am.”
“What about our age difference?” I remind him I’m fifteen years her senior.
“My lovely wife is ten years younger than I am. It’s never been an issue.” Then, he grimaces and grips his gut. “I just need to know Sofi will be taken care of. My daughter is special . . . a rare butterfly.”
A quiet nod. “She is.”
“I happen to know a thing or two about butterflies.” He loosens the belt of his bathrobe. “They cannot see their wings and therefore don’t know how fragile they are. Nor how beautiful they are.”
His words pull at my heartstrings. “That is why I love your daughter all the more. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is inside and out. But I can see her inner beauty and strength and the way it radiates. Defines her. My mother used to say: ‘Beauty is as beauty does.’”
“Your mother is a very wise woman.”
“Was. She died when I was eighteen. Way too young.”
Another stretch of silence. His expression grows solemn. “Roman, I need to know that my daughter will be happy and cherished.” Sadness seeps into his voice. “I may not be around to take care of her much longer.”
My brows furrow; he just turned sixty-five. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been diagnosed with stage three colon cancer.”
What?
“Jesus. Does Sofi know?”
“No, not yet.”
Suddenly, at this dark moment, the lights flash on. Simultaneously, a sob explodes.
“Oh, Daddy!”
Sofi knows now.