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“When they’re caterpillars they eat and eat and eat for several weeks to store up fat for when they turn into a pupa. The pupa is the transitioning stage. So much happens within those weeks, or even months, that by the time it reaches the reproductive stage and becomes a butterfly, it’s completely unrecognizable from when it was a caterpillar. Caterpillars, you must admit, aren’t that much to look at, but a butterfly… a butterfly has the most intricate wings with an explosion of beautiful colors. Not to mention it can fly. There’s nothing more rewarding than watching a butterfly fly.”
I take a moment to watch Eli’s reaction and although silent, he seems to be at least a little intrigued by what I’m saying.
“Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that I was that ugly looking caterpillar—I know I was. But, I so desperately want to be a butterfly.”
Eli stops eating, placing the fork down in his bowl. His beautiful soft green eyes peer at me, studying me as if I’m a new specimen. “You know, that’s the most poignant and heartfelt statement I have ever heard you make? It’s refreshing.”
I smile, glad that he’s no longer questioning my… agenda.
“Thank you,” I reply with a soft smile, glad when he returns it. In that moment, our eyes lock and something I can only describe as magical holds us captive there. My heart races, my insides turn to mush, and my inner teenaged girl is screaming in an oh so dreamy state that Eli… oh, wow… Eli, is staring at me. It’s like every girl’s dream to meet someone they adore from afar and have them say even one word to you… acknowledge your existence. Strange that I have that sense when I have apparently been married to him for three years now.
However, the moment is gone the second Eli clears his throat, averts his gaze, and gets up from the table. “I’ll wash these,” he declares, taking his bowl and mine before placing them in the sink.
He’s finding it hard. We both are. If it were the other way around, I would have divorced me by now. I can take fighting with my husband. All couples squabble. It’s what develops and nurtures it. What I could never abide is someone cheating on me. That would be a hard no. It makes me wonder if Eli has ever—at the very least—been tempted.
“Before you met me, did you have a lot of girlfriends?”
The moment that question leaves my lips, I realize just how stupid I am. I’m his wife. I should already know all this. The moment the water stops, my heart sinks, wondering if he’ll question why I’m asking when we’ve already been over this when we first met. Isn’t that what dating couples do? Size up the competition from before? Get to know what experience the other has and which pitfalls they went through?
Eli, grabbing the teacloth, dries his hands before turning to gaze at me. He’s not angry. Certainly no hint of frown lines. In fact, the slight smile gives away that he’s maybe somewhat amused by my question.
“I guess I was your typical hormonal teenager when I was at school. Once I discovered girls, yes, I went a bit crazy, never getting tied down to one girl. Of course, it was fun at first, but the monotony of it soon wore off when I realized it wasn’t what made me truly happy. What cemented it was when I kissed one girl… I can’t even remember her name.” He shakes his head. “That sounds so bad.”
“It’s not really,” I interrupt. “Lots of teenagers kiss lots of people in their lifetime. No one can remember all their names. It’s part of growing up and finding your feet.”
Eli slightly chuckles at my analogy. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thank you for making me sound like less of a manwhore,” he jokes.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, causing us to laugh together. The sound of us warms my heart and relaxes me further.
“Anyway, I was saying. Another girl who I had fooled around with a couple of times caught me with this new girl, and although she knew we weren’t exclusive, the look on her face made me feel like crap. Claudia, her name was. She was around twenty to thirty feet away and it was almost as if I had caught her at her most vulnerable state. She looked unbelievably hurt, but once she realized I was looking directly at her, she smiled back. However, I knew in my heart of hearts that it was forced. Although I know I had done nothing wrong, it still didn’t stop me feeling like the world’s worst philanderer.”
Wanting to know more, I prompt, “So, did you ever date this Claudia then? Exclusively?”
Eli shakes his head. “No. I thought about it, but in the end, I wrestled with the idea that maybe I was only entertaining the notion solely because of that look she gave me. That I would only date her to selfishly allay the guilt I had felt.”
“That’s very mature for someone so young.” I’m about to tell him that I would never have thought about that if in I were in his shoes, but how would I even know? “Did you date anyone after that?” I’m eager to know more, simply itching to find out about the man behind the Hollywood persona.
“Not for around six months. I had tried to get close to some but could never find that spark I was after. Then, I met this girl at a party and for someone so beautiful, she also seemed very laid back compared to a lot of the rich LA girls I knew at school.” He stops for a moment, but when I simply sit there smiling, he takes that as his cue to continue. “Her name was Beth. She was seventeen going on twenty-five,” he chuckles. “She had her head on straight, knew what she wanted in life and had all her goals set out in front of her to achieve. I almost felt inferior to her as she was a straight A student, and there was me, up ’til then only caring about football and girls. However, she changed all that for me, got me on a straight path, and because of it my grades improved, which really made my dad happy. He loved Beth for that, loved her drive and ambition. At first, I loved that too and we were happy. It sounds totally shallow of me, but I began to resent Beth—resent the fact that my dad loved her, a girl he had barely known, and yet, he couldn’t find it in his heart to love his own son.”
Closing my eyes, tears begin to well as sadness consumes me. When I open them, my heart crumbles witnessing just how much it breaks his. All he wants is for his father to love him. Is that so much to ask? It makes me wonder again, but I’m not sure whether to question him about it when all that it did last time was start an argument.
Reaching out, I place my hand over his, taking that chance for some sort of physical contact with him. When he doesn’t flinch, I wrap my palm around his, my fingers clasping inside his strong hand. Butterflies begin to surface at his touch, my body wanting and craving more.
“Please tell me why you let him treat you so badly?”
Eli sighs and I wonder if I’ve gone too far too soon, but he doesn’t pull away from my touch.
“Initially, when I was at school, I would just tell myself over and over again that one day I’d be old enough to get a job, and then I could leave and never look back. It was around that time; I had already been spotted by a big movie director who was looking for some fresh faces. He asked if I had ever acted before and I had told him I did do a few drama classes, but nothing special. Turns out, I had a natural knack in front of the camera, and it quickly took off from there. I ended up leaving just after high school and concentrated solely on acting. My mother was devastated, and my father at boiling-point angry, but by then, I had too much money and another roof over my head to care about what he thought. I had extreme guilt for my mother, and I did keep in touch with her as often as I could. After about a year one Christmas, I had some time off work, so decided to visit my parents. As you can imagine, it didn’t get off to a good start. By Christmas Eve, I was packing my bag and heading back home again. My mom eventually convinced me to stay, and it was only then I overheard a conversation between my parents discussing recent hospital visits. Turns out my dad is dying of bowel cancer.”
My heart crushes at the news. An all-too-well-known feeling of heartache washes over me, but I have no idea why. Have I been through something similar with a family member? Putting that aside for now, I concentrate on Eli’s plight. At least it answers some burning questions.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Eli. I really am. It makes sense that you want to try and be courteous with your father when he’s dying, but that still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you.” Eli flinches at that, making my pulse pick up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to anger you. It’s just… well, no father has the right to pick on their son, no matter what the circumstances. Fathers are there to nurture and love, not to mock and ridicule. I only say this as I’m looking out for you. You deserve better.”
Eli flits his eyes to mine and for a moment he searches something deep within me. He’s wary still. Of course he is. Who wouldn’t be?
“I’m not angry. I know you’re right.” My shoulders relax a little, my relieved sigh palpable. “But what can I do? If I stop seeing them again and he dies, it will break my mother’s heart. I can’t do that to her. I’m trying to be the bigger man here.”
I clench my hand in his. “I know, and you are, but you also owe it to yourself not to take his crap. Instead of the secrets and stepping on eggshells, why not simply talk to him? Tell him you know about his cancer, and that although you are upset about that, he also needs to realize that as he hasn’t got a lot of time left on this earth, so making amends is important. Tell him you’re heartbroken that he’s leaving. Tell him that you will do your best to make sure your mom is okay once he passes, but also tell him that as long as you are visiting, you expect nothing less than the courtesy you deserve as his one and only son.”
