Page 103 of Butterfly

When Ollie closed his eyes, he still saw Teddy’s face light up like it did whenever Ollie had written out one of his memories, then he’d watch Ollie’s mouth, waiting to hear his words out loud. His eyes always watered with awe, or with relief, Ollie didn’t know for sure, but he did know it meant a lot to Teddy. Teddy always cradled Ollie’s face and kissed him tenderly afterwards like he was precious, a gift that had been sent to him.

He’d felt special.

He’d never felt special before that moment.

Maybe it had never been love for Teddy.

Maybe he’d just been lonely, and Ollie was the one to hear him.

He was the one who had responded to Teddy’s advances and helped him with hisurges.

If that was all it had been, Ollie was okay with it, but he needed Teddy to know what he’d meant to Ollie.

He loved Teddy Saul,hisTeddy locked up in Hollybrook Prison, and he always would. Time, past and future, wouldn’t take away the two years they spent together.

He didn’t want to say goodbye, but he needed to, and he did.

For the first time, he didn’t sign the letter ‘Your Butterfly’. He simply put Ollie, before shoving it in an envelope.

Posting the letter felt momentous, but not in a good way.

It felt like he was abandoning Teddy.

But Teddy had already abandoned him first.

You are strong enough to survive out there without me, not only survive but flourish.

It was time to flourish.

Ollie took his plastic bag of Teddy’s memories outside to the fire pit.

He dropped them one at a time into the flames.

The back door flung open.

Rory rushed out in his police uniform, mouth flapping, eyes bugging from his head.

“What are you doing?”

Sebastian appeared, catching Rory around the waist before he could stop Ollie from destroying the rest of the letters.

“Leave it,” Sebastian murmured by Rory’s ear. “It’s his decision.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Sebastian dragged a stunned Rory back into the house and closed the door.

Rory didn’t come back outside, but he did watch stone-faced from the kitchen window. Burning each memory wasn’t enough to delete it from Ollie’s head. They were still there, but rather than dilute his memory by reading them over and over, he let the originals exist in his mind, the memory of him and Teddy in their cell.

When he was finished, he neatly folded the plastic bag and pushed it into the recycling bin.

Rory stared at him. “I would’ve asked if you were sure.”

Ollie smiled. “It’s a little late, but my answer would’ve been yes. It still is yes.”

“Okay,” Rory said softly.

“No more curfew,” Ollie said. “No more community service. My seven months are up. It’s…over.”

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