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Thea’s hair is tied into a braid that falls to the side, letting me see the few butterflies tatted on her back. Her ankle bracelet has a butterfly charm.
Matt calls her Butterfly. I do too, but I want to know why.
“What’s with the butterflies?”
“She’s a butterfly.” Matt’s brilliant eyes meet mine. “Majestic, free, and colorful.”
Thea flinches.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“My brother,” she whispers.
“My brother used to call me Butterfly. Not sure why.” The sad, trembling voice continues to explain. “When I was seventeen, I learned from… from someone what they represent or mean in different cultures. Rebirth, transformation, the elevation of the soul. The ability of change when needed, among other things.
“Butterflies teach you to let go of old things, behaviors, addictions, or whatever it is you need, then retreat and come out being a better version of yourself.”
Thea’s eyes focus on the task of creating whatever she’s doing and forgetting that she was talking to us.
Matt and I look at each other. We both shrug. I expect something more about the brother when suddenly she asks, “Do you have a favorite animal?” She lifts her gaze, looking at me intently.
I shake my head.
“You, Matt?”
“Owls.” His lips stretch into a smile. “My brother and sister call me an owl because I’m nocturnal. I like it because there’re many kinds and have so many meanings—regal, powerful—and they’re the night-watchers.”
“Protectors,” Thea adds. “They’re the night protectors too, and many cultures have linked them with wisdom and guardianship of the underworld.”
“You have one?” I’m curious, as she has many bracelets.
“A couple.” She smiles proudly, showing me a charm on her bracelet.
Matt draws a line along her arm and kisses her bare shoulder. “The other one?”
“One day, I might show you, Mattie.” She kisses him back. “Go back to work.”
I’m intrigued, but I don’t push. Isn’t that what relationships are for? To spend a lifetime getting to know each other.
But are we going to be able to be together for that long?
ChapterNine
Matthew
I usually spendMonday mornings sleeping.
It’s the best way to avoid crowds, angry people, and catastrophes.
But since I’m trying to keep Thea for a few more hours, I wake up early. We go on our daily run, have breakfast, and I convince her to go with me to Pike Place Market where I take my time choosing groceries that I’ll probably give her since I’m leaving tomorrow for Vancouver.
When we finally arrive home, we find a stylish woman standing in our foyer, staring at our man. She’s tall, slim, and has glossy black hair cascading down her bare back. Tristan’s clenched jaw and hard eyes upset Thea, who surprisingly walks to him and kisses his lips.
“Are we interrupting something?” I ask, moving around the woman that in my old days, I’d be tapping against some wall, no questions asked.
“You’re with her?” The unknown woman scrunches her pointy nose, directing her attention at our girl.
Tristan pulls Thea to his side and nods.
