Page 93 of His Captive

“You’re welcome here anytime, “I tell him, and the smile widening on his face already has me feeling better.

“Thanks,” he says taking the wine I’ve poured, and trying not to make a face when it passes his lips.

“So what's new?” I ask.

“Everything soon. Ethan sold the house.”

I spit my wine back into my glass. Not because it tastes bad, I’m used to this shit, but because I’m gobsmacked.

“What?”

“The house, the town, everything. He’s said the new owners would guarantee me work. But they haven’t met me yet.” Buddy looks down at the table sadly.

“They will love you,” I assure him. “And if they suck, and they don’t, I can try and get you a job in the bar.”

“Thanks.” Buddy looks up and nods gratefully.

“So, where's Ethan going?” I ask, trying to sound casual. My fingers twitching to open the box.

“Hell knows, he doesn’t say hardly anything to me anymore. He has offices all around the world. He could end up going anywhere.”

God, why does that thought make me panic?

“Doesn’t look like he’s coming back though. He’s squared everything up in town. Berta from the laundry mat told me he’s wiped everyone’s debts completely clean.”

Unease stirs in my stomach.

“The party’s tomorrow night. You should come and say goodbye to him,” Buddy tells me.

“Party?”

“The party. The annual he throws every year. The one where you—”

“Yes, Buddy, I remember,” I interrupt him. Not needing a reminder that it has been a whole year since he’d made me his captive.

“Anyway, I should go. Leave you with your gift.” Buddy stands up from the table.

“It was really good to see you, Buddy,” I tell him pulling him toward me for another hug. He taps me softly on the back.

“He loves you, you know that don’t you?” He holds me tight to him, so I can’t escape his words.

“He loves her,” I correct him.

“It's not her name he calls in his sleep anymore,” he says, letting me go.

“Think about coming to that party, Lysa,”

“I will, I promise,” I tell him, leading him toward the door and thanking him before he leaves.

I close the door behind him and head straight for the table, my hands shaking with anticipation. I wish that I didn’t want to open it so badly. I wish I could just toss it like I had his letters. But the truth is, I miss his letters. I wish now that I’d read every one of them, because now they’ve stopped, I’m petrified that it means he’s let me go.

Slowly undoing the blue ribbon, I take the lid off the black box and gasp when I see the butterfly, mounted and framed. I’ve only ever seen it in a picture, but seeing it now allows me to fully appreciate how beautiful it is.

The frame is a little different, but it is without a doubt, Ethan’s butterfly. I carefully lift it from the box it’s packaged in and find the note beneath it.

Lysa,

Always have hope. You will forever be mine.

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