Butterflies

Chapter 27

Violet passed the cigarette back to Irene, leaning against the wall outside the building. Was it shame she was feeling, folding her arms as Irene timidly took a drag beside her. The overwhelming humiliation was all Violet could possess, and she knew it radiated onto the woman next to her.

"You shouldn't have seen that," she admitted in a tone Irene shook her head to. But she passed the cigarette back to her and let Violet take a deep breath of the smoke, her head pressing into the wall as if she wanted to be absorbed by it.

"I did have to-"

"No, no, it wasn't meant to go like that," Violet shot over her, holding the cigarette between her fingers as she turned to her, "that shit isn't me okay? I'm not that fucked up all right? I- I," she took a humiliated breath, "I want him here."

"Why isn't he?"

She rolled her eyes to her, not in the mood to emote why he had gone to her. Was it jealousy? What was the tension she felt in her neck when she thought about it? Taking another drag, she didn't give it back to her, instead wishing she could take all the tobacco at once.

"He's not here because he has a wife," she said, "fucking hell where's M.M.."

Tilting her head, Irene stepped closer to her. Violet spoke in avoidance, forcing out words to do the work for her as her eyes flickered down the street in fast movements. Her fingers shook covering the cigarette, and her scars that went all the way up her arms shun with the cream Irene put on them. It was more than Irene had ever seen. But she hadn't seen it all, only what Violet described, what she shouted while she was under. Pushing away her arms, Irene took her into a hug, putting a hand on her head so her face was in her shoulder.

"You know dear, I don't know William but if there was anyone more prominent in your life it would be him," she said, "the ghosts are gone now, you broke the chip, you broke their mind control. It's over."

"It'll never be over."

Moving back, Irene forced her to look at her, "stop saying that! Stop it! If you stay in this pit of blubbering and hiding away do you think it will end? Mmm yeah it won't. Here," she put a piece of paper in her hands, "that's my number, I want to set up regular meetings for us okay? Don't you think now you're free you can finally be with him?"

"And what if when he sees her again he'll remember that he loves her and not me?" Violet took another drag of the cigarette.

"You see I have a feeling he has wanted you for a while."

Laughing dryly, Violet stepped back and peered over her shoulder. There they were coming, another black car where she could see M.M., Hughie... And a blonde. She hoped what she spoke was true. That he did want her after all that time. Yet the past has its ways of latching onto you and never letting go even when you believe you're ridden of it. You're so used to the way it has changed you it's hard to destroy it. Violet had faced her past head on, but Billy hadn't. He, like she did, bottled it up and chucked it to the sea to never be found again. Saving Becca is a way to make him deal with his past, and Violet was proud of him for it, but seeing her could swerve everything they had built. And she begged it wouldn't, the jealousy brewing away as she pleaded that there is not still a side of him that will run to her after not being with her for so long.

As M.M. pulled up to the pathway, Violet turned put the cigarette out, smiling "ruined my lungs now, thanks for that."

"You'll heal," Irene replied.

"I'll call you yeah?" She confirmed and Irene nodded, "finally have someone I can text. Thank you for today, I think I understand."

"You never needed my help," Irene dismissed, "just a push. Good luck with William."