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“Enough of this shit,” she says, pointing the bottle at me, “and don’t ask. Because I am not reliving that right now.” I raise my hands in front of me in surrender.

“Hey, I didn’t say a thing.” I say, taking a sip from my glass.

“Great. Now tell me all about sex with Crawford James.”

Ford

I put the car in park and snagged the bouquet of wildflowers off the passenger seat, exiting my truck and pocketing my keys. I make my way down the worn-out path between my truck and the headstone. I come out here a lot, usually with the kids in tow. They like to deliver flowers and decorate Zoe’s grave for each holiday. It’s kind of our thing. I don’t often come alone, but I’m struggling with all these big feelings for Lex and I don’t know what’s right and what’s not. Deep down I know Zoe wouldn’t want me to be a miserable bastard for the rest of my life. She’d want me to fall in love and find someone who loves the kids just as much as I do but it’s not easy feeling like I’m replacing my wife.

I make it to her grave and replace the dead flowers with fresh ones, running my hand over the cool stone. This never gets any easier. My emotions are always on high alert whenever I come here. I press a kiss to my fingers and press it against her name written in stone. “Zoe Estelle James, beloved wife, mother, and daughter.”

I drop down onto the grass in front of the stone. Reclining back on my hands I looked upwards at the sky, heaved out a huge sigh.

“Hey Zo,” I said, feeling ridiculous for talking to nobody but I need to get it all out. Need to say what was on my heart, all the things making my soul weary. She believed in all that shit. Good karma, bad karma, balancing your chakra. I laugh out loud and shake my head, emotion still clogging my throat.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here. I didn’t mean to meet someone and fall in love. That was never in the cards for me. I was content just raising our kids, teaching, and coaching. And then all of the sudden, right outta nowhere, here she came. Crashing into my life. Fucking it all up but in the best way possible.” I go on, inhaling a shaky breath. “I’m sure I don’t need to go into details. You probably orchestrated all of this shit. Saw me just going through the motions and living each day like it was the same as the one before. You probably thought to yourself, “I wonder what I can do to make him understand,” and it’s almost like you hand-picked Alexis for me. Her heart and her soul, she’s just so pure. And so forgiving. A lot like you were. Like you would be if you were still here,” a stray tear slides down my cheek.

“But you’re not here. Not anymore. And I’m just not sure if it’s okay to have these big feelings? Is it okay for me to feel the way that I feel about someone that isn’t my wife? Someone that isn’t the mother of my children. I just need you to tell me that this is okay, that welcoming her into the kids lives and my life is okay. I need a sign, Zoe. Anything.” I finish, feeling utterly fucking ridiculous that I’m sitting in a cemetery talking to the wind. I sit there silently for a few minutes.

I heave out a huge sigh and begin to push up off the ground. At the same time, a small breeze blows in and a butterfly flutters by and lands on Zoe’s headstone.

Holy fuck. Zoe used to be obsessed with butterflies. It started in junior high but carried on all the way into adulthood. She could go on for hours about them. I stand up and take a closer look.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. A Palos Verdes Blue butterfly. I’m instantly taken back to a conversation we had our freshman year of school.

“Crawford James, where have you been?” Zoe asks as she saddles up next to me and props her shoulder against the locker beside mine. Man, she’s pretty.

“Been waitin’ on you to marry me, Zoe Estelle. Where have you been?” She rolls her eyes at the same line I’ve used on her since 7th grade, when she kissed me under the bleachers after a football game.

“Your pretty boy stuff doesn’t work on me, Ford,” she says and I finish the same sentence she’s been usin’ on me all this time, “I know, I know. I gotta ask your daddy. And I will. Just as soon as we graduate,” I slam my locker and she hooks her hand around my arm and falls into step beside me.

“What useless butterfly fact do you ha

ve for me today?” I say as we make our way to homeroom. She laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. This girl is obsessed with butterflies. It’s adorable.

“Alright, so get this. The Palos Verdes Blue butterfly. The rarest butterfly in the world. It was thought in 1994 that they were extinct." She goes on, talking fast like she always does when she talks about butterflies.

“And so what, now they aren’t?” I ask, steering us into our home room class and sitting down at my desk. She follows.

“NO! They discovered a colony of them in California. Isn’t that incredible? It’s believed that there are only 200 in existence,” she finishes, twisting her hair up into a top knot, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Did you also know that butterflies are thought to symbolize renewal after death? Like a sign that your loved one is still with you. When I die, I hope I can come back as a Palos Verdes Blue butterfly. Rare and exciting.” She grins over at me just as the bell rings.

I’m blown the fuck away. Right in front of my eyes is this fucking butterfly. I never remembered that conversation, not before today. A sob escapes me and I shake my head. Unfuckingbelievable. The butterfly flutters from its perch on the headstone and lands on my hand before fluttering away altogether. I wasn’t sure what kind of sign I was looking for but that was clearer than I could have ever imagined.

Lex

Knocking on the front door, I bounce on my toes, waiting on Ford to answer. I just got back from a jog and he’d mentioned the kids were gone so I thought I’d pop by and say hi. No answer. I can hear rock music coming from deep inside the house. I try the knob and it’s unlocked so I make my way in.

“Babe, you in here?” I call out, making my way towards the kitchen but stop when I hear the music coming from the basement. I head down and stutter step to a stop when I hit the bottom of the stairs. God this man is sexy. He’s lying on the wait bench, lifting the bar above his head. I can see his muscles bunching and stretching as he grunts out another set. Leaning against the door jam I wait for him to notice me. He lowers the bar back to it’s spot and sits up, finally realizing I’m here.

“Enjoying the show?” He asks, standing up and making his way towards me.

“Always,” I say, pressing up on my toes and placing a kiss on his mouth.

”This space is great,” I go on, taking a look around. I’ve never been down here. He’s got the weight bench, a pull-up bar, a treadmill, a leg press, and “Oh my god, is that a massage table?” I ask, making my way towards it.

“Yeah. It was a 5th anniversary present for Zo. She had just gotten her massage therapist license and I bought it for her so she could do massages here or take the table with her to appointments.” He runs his finger over the head rest and looks at me. “Hop up here,” he directs, patting the table. I shake my head no.

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