Page 70 of Butterfly

“His life, my life. Too different.” The words come out in stutters. I’m too distraught to keep my guard up. Too exhausted. And all the doubts and fears are assaulting me, disguised as whispers in my head.

“You won’t have a future together as long as you believe in that lie.” She moves closer and lowers her voice. “Listen, why don’t you let me see your back?”

“No, no.” Sobs escape from my throat.

“I won’t tell Alex anything. I swear it on my husband’s soul. Whatever we talk about here will stay here. I won’t put myself between you and him, I promise. I’m only worried about your shoulder. Let me see it, Sienna.” Her concern is solid enough that I can feel it pressing against my skin, but not in an aggressive way; it’s almost soothing.

I shake my head, but energy is leaching out of me. And I’m so tired of fighting. So tired of being alone.

“Let me take care of you,” Bethany insists. “You can pretend I’m your mother. But you won’t need to pretend I care about you.”

I hide my face in my hands, sobbing. “If he knows.”

“He won’t. Not from me. It’s your decision.” She caresses my cheek, wiping the tears with a handkerchief. I don’t know where she got it from.

A few moments pass, and she doesn’t add anything. She only hands me the handkerchief. “You can do it, Sienna. Your fear is holding you back. I have complete faith in you and your strength.”

Heck, I don’t know what she’s talking about, but my shoulder is throbbing, and my energy is in tatters. I’m so tired. I wipe my face and hesitate before grabbing the hem of my jumper. On the armchair, I turn towards the fireplace and lift my top. Inch by inch, the fabric goes up, dragging up my long-sleeved shirt under the jumper as well. The cool air is almost a relief to my burning skin. My heart leaps into my throat as I stare at the damask pattern on the chintz armchair, waiting for her reaction. My back is fully exposed. Maybe it’s a mistake. My pulse thunders in my ears. I shouldn’t be doing it. I’m about to lower my jumper when she takes a sharp breath.

“Oh, good Lord,” she nearly yells.

I wince at her high tone of voice.

The door is pushed open. “Mum, what—”

I pull my jumper down when I hear Alex’s voice.

“Out!” Bethany jumps out of her seat and slams the door shut. “Don’t come in. Call Fiona. I want Fiona.”

“Mum—”

“Now!” Bethany remains at the door, her grey eyes wide with dread. She massages her forehead and inhales deeply. When she speaks, her voice sounds steadier than before. “We’re going to take care of you, darling.”

I fiddle with my hands. I have the heart of a lion and the brain of a rabbit. The lion wants to stay. The rabbit wants to flee.

A soft knock comes from the door. “It’s me.”

Bethany lets Fiona inside before shutting the door and locking it. “Please, take a look at Sienna’s back.”

I freeze on the seat as Fiona approaches me. “I don’t…” My lips quiver as Fiona towers over me with her impossibly kind face.

“Let her, please,” Bethany says with an encouraging nod. “You have a large bruise there, and the skin is swollen.”

Fiona sits in front of me, her strawberry-blonde hair giving her the air of an angel. “Please.”

Bethany nods at me again. “I trust you.”

I turn around and raise my jumper for the second time, gulping down the bitter taste in my mouth.

Fiona gasps. “What the fuck!”

I close my eyes, tears wetting my jumper. It’s like my soul is being ripped into pieces and exposed for everyone to see. It hurts so much, I don’t have the energy to cover myself.

Bethany sits next to me and takes my hand. “You’re so brave, Sienna.”

It doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’m falling from a height.

“I’m sorry, Sienna.” Fiona clears her throat. “I have to examine your shoulder.” Her fingers touch my shoulder gently, but each brush feels like a blow. I squeeze Bethany’s hand hard, digging my fingers into it. If I’m hurting her, she isn’t showing it.

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