Those Damn Butterflies

Chapter Three

"Nice shop you've got here." The woman said as she looked around, pushing her hands into the pockets of her black jeans. "Very... uhm, rustic."

I couldn't believe this. The woman who singlehandedly ruined my life was standing in front of me as if nothing ever happened.

"Are you going to serve me or what?" She quirked an eyebrow and smiled at me.

I shook my head and then put on the best fake smile I could, as if I hadn't been crying the last two days because of her damn lips. "What do you want?"

"Oh wow, what a customer service." She chuckled but I didn't find it amusing. When she realized that her smile dropped and she frowned. "Wow, ok. Uhm." Looking at the bread in the counter, her hand scratched her chin. I couldn't help but notice the rings slinging around her tatted fingers and remembered the way they felt on my skin. And I hated myself so much for that. "What do you recommend?"

"We have a special pumpkin bread." I tried keeping my answers as short as possible.

"Ok, then that I guess." I nodded and pulled out a bag for the bread. "Can we, like, talk though?"

I halted for a moment but then continued putting the bread into the bag. "Talk about what?"

"Why did you leave so suddenly?"

"How do you know where I work?"

"You told me. Remember?"

"I honestly don't. But I'm glad you're not a stalker."

She laughed and it reminded me of how hostile I should be to her.

I placed the bread onto the counter. "Your total is $5.45. Cash or card?"

Again, she furrowed her dark eyebrows. "Card."

I took the reader and entered the right cash amount, then held it out to her. She pulled out a slick leather wallet from the back of her trousers and held a black card over the reader. I pulled it back as soon as it beeped.

"Have a nice day." I gave the best customer service smile I could and then turned around to clean up the bread from the floor, dismissing her.

When I was done and I still hadn't heard the bell above the door ring I turned around and dreaded what I found. She was watching me with humorous eyes.

"Anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes. Talk to me."

I rolled my eyes. "I already did."

"No, not really. You responded to my question with another question."

Sighing, I leaned back against the oven. "Look, what happened was a mistake. Why don't you just go back to that club and pick up some other woman?"

"Oh, I most definitely will, but I still wanna talk to you. It's not everyday that I get called a mistake."

Frustrated, I pushed a hand through my hair. "What do you even want from me?"

"Honestly," she paused a moment, probably to show her sincerity, "I really don't know why I'm here. I just couldn't help myself."

"Maybe you could help yourself out of this shop." I muttered under my breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing." I quickly responded.

"What's your name?"

"I'm not gonna tell you."

"Why not?"

I rolled my eyes once more. "Can you just leave, please?"