Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Yes. Yes, I understand.” Carter clears his throat.
“Good.” I release him and take a step back. “Every day. I want a text every day, Carter. If I don’t get one, then I’ll assume the worst, and show up right on this fucking doorstep.”
“I know. I’ll give you an update every day, and I won’t touch her. I won’t have anything at all to do with her.”
I nod, satisfied with his answer. “Good, be safe and take care of her. I’m leaving now.”
“I will.” Carter stands a little straighter.
He’s the perfect person for this job. I shove my hands into my pockets and walk down the driveway. Every step that I take away from her is another weight added to my feet, making it harder for me to walk away.
I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to push her away, but staying with me isn’t safe. I can’t protect her and be the reason she’s in danger. I have to go, even if it’s just for her. Maybe I’ll see her again someday? I would hope so given the way things ended today, but if I don’t, I won’t be surprised. Claire wished I hadn’t saved her life, so it is better for me to not exist in her life, not in the physical sense at least.
If I ever see her again, I can only hope it is years from now, when she has realized her crush on me was nothing special and that I did everything I could to make sure she had a good life.
19
Claire
Two Years Later
Eighteen years old. I made it to the big one-eight, but it doesn’t seem like I achieved anything. I’ve done the same thing every day since the night he dropped me off with my parents. He abandoned me that day, shattered my heart into a million pieces by calling me a child, by telling me I’d move on, that it was a silly crush that we would laugh about someday. He broke my fragile, stupid heart and then walked away without looking back.
Now, two years later, there is a package sitting on my bed. It’s from Lucca. I don’t want to open it, but I’m too curious. He can’t come see me, but he can give Carter a package to give to me? That fact angers me beyond measure. Knowing he is near, talking to Carter and my parents, but never to me, makes me furious. I know Lucca pays for anything and everything I want. He made certain I had food and clothes, but none of that makes up for leaving.
He pays Carter to protect me or technically babysit me. Through Carter, I’ve kept tabs on Lucca. Of course, he never tells me anything I really want to know. But enough to know he is alive and doing well.
I rip open the box and imagine I’m snapping Lucca’s neck as I pull back the flaps on the box. There’s bubble wrap inside, so I yank it out to see the object on the bottom.
It’s a shadow box with purple and gold paper butterflies in it and the quote: “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” — Maya Angelou printed across the glass.
It’s beautiful, but a reminder that even at eighteen, he still sees me as a kid. He still sees that shy, little girl wearing the butterfly sweater that approached him that day. I hate it. Hate that in his eyes, that’s all I’ll ever be. The pain from that day when he left, when he told me he would only ever see me as a child, comes rushing back.
I look down at the box again, remembering the first present he ever gave me. I was so happy, so hopeful… so stupid.
“I should probably get back.” I look over my shoulder and back to the door, worrying that my father might come walking out the door at any second to yell at me.
“Before you go…” Lucca stands, placing his bottle of beer down, “I have something for you.” He walks over to the door and disappears inside his house.
I stand, staring at the door, wondering what he could have for me. A second later, I’m given an answer when the door creaks, and he comes back out with what looks like a notebook. I’m further puzzled until he hands the notebook to me, and I see a blue and black glitter butterfly on the cover.
It’s beautiful. “Thank you,” I choke out, shocked that he would get me something. No one has ever gotten me anything, not even my father.
Lucca’s eyes dart away, and he picks his beer back up. “It’s nothing. I just saw it, and I figured you would like it. I guessed right.”
“Yes, you did.” I smile and hold the notebook to my chest.