Butterfly by Nelle L’Amour

CHAPTER 51

Sofi

Icame downstairs for a glass of water. With the power outage, my father had no idea I was in the hallway eavesdropping on his conversation with Roman—from the moment he called me a rare butterfly. All the things he and Roman said about me brought happy tears to my eyes. Made my heart swell. And then he dropped the C-bomb.

Now, a torrent of tears floods my face as I run over to hug him. I sink down on the couch beside him.

“Oh, Daddy!” I sob out, my arms wrapping around him. How thin he is! I can feel his ribs. No wonder he’s not been eating much and losing so much weight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He strokes my hair. “I didn’t want to worry you. It seemed like you had enough to deal with.”

“You should have. Does Mom know?” I keep my eyes on his gaunt face.

“Yes, she knows.”

Rapid footsteps sound in my ears. Then, an alarmed voice.

My mom. “What’s going on? Why is Roman here?” She sees my tear-soaked face, then fires him a scathing look before looking at my dad. “Has he hurt Sofi again?”

“No, dear, far from it.” He looks my mother straight in the eye. “Sofi knows about my cancer.”

My mother clasps her hand to her mouth and her eyes begin to water. Her pain reels me in.

“Dad, are you going to need an operation?”

“Yes, one is scheduled for next week. Then, depending on how that goes, I’ll be doing a round of chemo.”

“Oh, Dad!” Fresh tears pour from my eyes. My mom starts to cry too.

The expression on my father’s face grows vexed. “My girls, please control yourselves. The only thing I can’t deal with is a cryfest. Or a pity party.”

My mother and I both swipe at our tears. It doesn’t stop them from falling. My father looks at us stoically.

“I’m strong. They’ve caught it in time and my doctors say there’s a good chance of survival.”

My honest-to-a-fault father is a terrible liar. I know he’s worried to death. I just heard him confess his concern about dying to Roman. A shuddering head-to-toe chill runs through me. Despair claims every cell of my body, every fiber of my being. Oh, God, please don’t let him die! Please! For both his sake and my mom’s, I put on a brave face.

“Dad, are you going to continue to work?”

“Yes. I’ve hired a good kid from your high school to help me out at the bookstore. A bookworm who wants to go to Yale. He’s going to be there when I can’t be. My doctors think it’s good for me to work as much as possible. It’ll keep my mind off things. Keep me strong.”

“That’s good, Dad.” My voice is tearful.

His gaze shifts from me to Roman. “And by the way, this is no way to entertain our guest.”

For the first time, I make eye contact with him. My beloved Roman. Much like me, he looks dissipated. Disheveled. He, too, has lost weight, and looks as though he hasn’t shaved in ages. His flame-blue eye burns into mine, and already I feel my chilled body heating. Melting under his gaze.

“Roman, why did you come here?” I need to hear him tell me.

“Sofi, I can’t live without you.” He pauses. “I told your father how much I love you.”

That is why I love your daughter all the more. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is inside and out.

The heartfelt words I overheard that made me want to run into his arms. Feel his lips on mine. The lips I’ve so missed but know I can never have. Another round of tears gathers in my eyes. “But, Roman, we can’t be together.”

“We can. I know the real truth.”

Did Kendra show him the genetic testing?

“I told your father everything.”

“He knows about Ava?”

My father answers. “Yes, and I know about Abra.”

“Abra?” I murmur.

“Your biological mother.”

“What?” I audibly gasp. So confused, I look to Roman for answers.

“Butterfly, I can explain . . . ”

My father interrupts him, gazing adoringly at my mother. “And I know something about love.”

Perplexed, my apron-clad mother’s eyes ping-pong between Roman and my dad. “Paul, darling, who are Ava and Abra? Did I miss something?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll fill you in later.” My father lifts up my chin. “Honey, Roman wants you to go back to the city with him.”

“But, Dad, I can’t. Not when you’re sick.”

“Let me rephrase: I want you to go back with him.”

Roman turns to me, compassion beaming in his good eye. “Butterfly, I understand if you want to stay. To be here for your father.”

A beat of silence before my dad ends it with a thunder. “No! I don’t need two nursemaids.” I shake, never having heard him raise his voice before. His eyes stay fierce on me. “I have someone to watch over me. The only one I need . . . your mother.” He looks at her tenderly. Lovingly.

Tears bleed from my mom’s eyes as he continues, his voice softening.

“When your mother and I got married, we took a vow . . . ”

I watch as he gets up from the couch and moves over to her. Facing each other, they join hands.

“I take you, Janyce Lunden, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse . . . ”

My teary-eyed mother joins in. Together, their voices, full of emotion, resound: “For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

Tears flow freely from my eyes. I glance over to Roman, and tears are falling not only from his good eye but also from the one behind his patch. Is his other eye not completely lost? Or not immune to emotion? Are these the very words he never got a chance to say to Ava?

My father’s melodic voice stops me in my thoughts. “Sofi, my dearest, one day you will say this vow too. But right now, you need to live your life and be with the man who needs you. And adores you.”

Roman’s good eye again connects with mine. “Come here, Butterfly.” He motions with his hand and then stands up.

I hesitate. Rising from the couch, I take a few small steps and then break into a sprint. The small space between us feels like a football field. Before he can haul me into his arms, I jump him, folding my arms and legs around his hard body like a pretzel. Eye level with me, he smashes his lips on mine and gives me the fiercest, most delicious kiss ever. Oh God, how I’ve missed him! The warmth of him. The feel of him. The taste of him. I don’t want to let him go.

He finally ends the all-consuming kiss and whispers, “I love you so much, Sofi. So, so, much.”

The same.“I need to go upstairs to get my backpack. And to change.” Since I didn’t bring a suitcase filled with clothes home, there’s nothing to pack.

Roman gently sets me down. “Don’t bother taking off your pajamas,” he calls out, his voice commanding as I mount the stairs to my room. “You look too cute in them.”

Mr. Bossy and Controlling. I glance down at my butterfly-print pj’s and can’t help a smile.

Five minutes later, I’m back downstairs. Now wearing some old fuzzy slippers and carrying my backpack. I’m still in my flannels.

“You’re a good man,” says my father to Roman, giving him a man pat on his back at the front door.

“Thank you, sir.” Roman laces his hand with mine. “Godspeed.”

“Take good care of our butterfly. Watch over her. And don’t let her fly away.”