Chasing Butterflies (25 page)

9 months later

Yara

My heels click on the linoleum floor as I approach the main door. I could hear the screaming and yelling before I even stepped out of the lift, and I know it won’t stop anytime soon. Just before I swipe my ID card against the small black panel on the wall, the door swings wide open and out steps Yoko.

“Good luck with that one today,” she says, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. “She’s in a disgusting mood. Hasn’t eaten a thing all day and won’t talk to anyone either.”

I take a deep breath and stare at Yoko’s bright red cheeks. “Did you tell her I was coming to see her?”

“No,” she says, holding the door open for me as I walk through it. “I thought I’d let her sweat it out a bit more.”

I roll my eyes as the door slams shut in my face, then I watch Yoko retreat down the corridor, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. People like Yoko shouldn’t be in a job like this if they haven’t got any patience. I make a mental note to talk to my supervisor about her and then spin on my heels, carrying on down the bare corridor.

“Get the fuck off me! GET FUCKING OFF!”

“I’m nowhere near you, April. Just calm down.”

“Alright,” I say as forcefully as I can when I open April’s door. My eyes immediately find Silas as he stands with his hands on his hips right in front of me. He blinks at me, looking confused and a little bit scared because of what she was shouting. I was half expecting to come in and find him manhandling her. “That’s enough yelling and accusing people of doing stuff they’re not doing, April. And we don’t swear in here. Understood?”

She immediately stops screaming then turns her bright red face towards me, glaring at me from the other side of the room.

“She’s all yours,” says Silas, sounding relieved.

“Thanks,” I mumble as he slips out of the door behind me.

I can hear April’s fast, shallow breathing from across the room. “Where’s your inhaler?” I ask.

“I don’t need it.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t need it,” she repeats. She spits the last bit of the word and then grinds her teeth together.

I sigh and sit down on the chair at her desk. “Where is it?”

“I. Don’t. Need. It!”

I lift my chin and hold her gaze for a few seconds as I think about how I’m going to go about this with her. “I didn’t ask you if you needed it, April. I asked you where it is. Now you should know that I can play these games with you all day long, but where would that get us?” I shuffle on the seat, pulling my pencil skirt down where it’s gotten bunched up. “It wouldn’t get us anywhere,” I answer for her. “It would just make us both angrier than we already are, and then we’d be annoyed with each other for no good reason.”

She throws herself back on the bed with a huff. “Why can’t all the others be like you?”

I pull some notes from her file and my eyes scan over them, even though I know her case by heart. She was my first patient, and she’s been at St Mary’s for the longest. “I’m going to tell you something now that I don’t want you repeating to any of the others.”

“A secret?” she asks, grinning at me in anticipation.

“Yes,” I say, nodding, “and I’m only telling you so you’ll understand why I’m not like the others. It isn’t because I’m special or because I’m younger than they are. It’s because I was just like you,” I whisper. “I was misunderstood too. I know how lonely it is to feel like you’re the only one feeling like you do. I know you think about things over and over, wondering if there’s anything you could have done differently to prevent you from being where you are now. I know what it’s like to feel so angry that you can’t ever see yourself feeling any other way.”

She sits up and stares at me, looking shocked. “You were in a place like this?”

I nod and swallow. “Yes.”

“Wow,” she says through a whistle. “I never would have guessed.”

“And why is that?” I ask.

She shrugs. “You dress nice and wear expensive-smelling perfume. You’re clever and have a good job. People genuinely like you. You’ve got a boyfriend that loves you and you’re pretty.”

I smile sadly at her. “Almost all of those things you listed are material, April. It doesn’t matter what my face looks like or how nice my clothes are. It doesn’t really matter if I smell like I just walked out of a perfume shop. What matters is that I’m happy being who I am. What matters is that I love myself more than anyone loves me.”

“But I guess it helps that someone gave you that?” she asks, nodding toward my hand.

I look down and stare at the sparkling, butterfly-shaped diamond that sits proudly on my finger. “The man that gave me this loves me for who I am. He doesn’t care what I look like or how I smell either. He loves
me
. The real me. And I know this because he fell in love with me when I was in my”—I hold my fingers up, making air quotes—“crazy stage.”

“He did?” she asks, the astonishment clear in her voice.

“Yes,” I tell her. “But even if I didn’t have a man that wanted to marry me, I’d still be happy. I’d be happy because I learned to work through my problems. I worked
with
my therapist instead of against her. I behaved. I followed the rules.
I
got myself out of there, April. No one else did it. It was me. And in doing so, I managed to tackle some of the demons that plagued me, to turn my life around for the better.”

“How old were you?” she asks, curling her legs underneath her.

I smile when I notice her face is back to a normal colour. “I was sixteen, just a few months older than you are now.”

“Are you completely better now? You don’t have any dark days?”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” I say softly. “There will always be things I regret, but even people who’ve never felt like we feel have regrets. It’s a part of life. But what I don’t have anymore are days when I feel like there’s nothing here for me. I look forward to the future, and I never wish I wasn’t here, living my life and experiencing all the good things that being alive can bring you.”

“Do you think I’ll feel like you one day?”

“I hope so,” I say quickly. “Because I was out in the field today, meeting with a couple that have offered you a place in their home if you want it.”

“What?” she shrieks. “Really?” I nod and beam at her as she jumps to her feet.

“Yes, but they want to see you working with your therapist and see your behaviour improving over the next four weeks. They want to help you, but they want you to help yourself too.”

“I will, I will,” she says, skipping across the floor until she wraps her arms around me. “I can’t believe someone is going to take me at my age. Usually, they all want the babies.”

“They’re amazing people, April,” I say as I hug her back, even though I probably shouldn’t. “They’ll really look after you, and they’re both looking forward to meeting you if it’s what you want.”

“It is,” she gushes. “It’s what I’ve wanted for the last five years.”

“Good. Then let’s make sure you behave yourself.”

“Best behaviour,” she tells me, saluting me with a grin on her face.

“With everyone,” I say, raising my eyebrow at her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I laugh at her as I stand up and straighten my skirt. “I have to go now,” I say, noticing the time and wincing as I realise I’m twenty minutes late. “But I want you to think about what we’ve talked about, and I want to hear you’ve made a significant improvement when I get back next week.”

“You will,” she says. “I’m even going to tidy my room.”

“Good girl,” I say as I walk toward her door.

“Have a good holiday, Yara.”

“Thank you, April.”

She beams and me and then says, “That man of yours is a lucky guy.”

I slip out with a smile on my face and walk down the corridor toward the staff room. I breathe a sigh of relief when I get inside and see that it’s empty. Immediately, I shove the folders into my locker and then grab my coat, taking one last look around before dashing out of there.

When I run out of the side door and down the twisting, metal steps, I spy Gabriel leaning against the side of his car. He’s wearing his sunglasses, a tight white shirt and a pair of black denim jeans that mould around his muscular legs. My mouth waters at the sight of him, and then I spot a book in his hands and I completely melt.

“What’re you reading?”

He jumps, having not heard me approach, and drops the book. “It was a book on how to get your fiancée to stop making you jump all the time.”

I laugh and lean up on my tiptoes to kiss him. Gabriel tastes of the sun and of being outside all day long. He tastes like summer and smells like fresh rain on a cool day. “Then you should return it and get your money back.”

He smiles against my lips and kisses me once more before bending down to pick up the book. “I lied about the book. It’s actually a book on how to tell your fiancée that you’ve booked her a surprise trip and have a bag packed for her in the boot of your car.”

“You haven’t,” I say, sliding my arms around his neck.

He grins and stares at my lips as he nods. “I have.”

“Where are we going?”

He rolls his eyes and slaps my backside. “Maybe you should buy yourself a dictionary and look up the definition of the word ‘surprise.’”

I playfully swat his arm and then shove my bag into his arms. “Come on then. What are you waiting for?”

Gabriel

We got off the ferry and onto Irish land about six hours ago, but it’s only now that I can turn the car off the road and onto the long, bumpy lane that leads to the ranch. I stop the car just before we get to the entrance and kill the engine.

When I turn around and see Yara’s perfectly still, sleeping face, I almost turn the car around so I can find us a hotel somewhere. I know she’s been working hard on a case at work and it’s taken its toll on her a bit. Maybe I should have waited until things weren’t so busy for her before doing this, but I’m not exactly sure how much longer we have.

I take a deep breath then lean between the seats and shake her shoulder. “Yara,” I whisper. “You need to wake up.”

“No,” she mumbles.

“You’ve always been crap at waking up,” I say.

“I’ve only just fallen asleep.”

I smile and shake her some more. “You’ve been asleep for the last two hours. I’ve been boring myself to death with the sound of my own voice.”

“You bored me to sleep,” she says as she sits up and rubs her eyes.

I laugh, watching her run her fingers through her hair. “You’re not funny, Yara.”

Her mouth twitches when she finally opens her eyes and looks at me. “I’m very funny.” I see the moment she remembers what’s happening flash through her eyes, and then she’s climbing into the front seat next to me. “Where are we?”

“We’re about a minute away from your surprise.”

“Ooh,” she says excitedly. “What time is it?”

“Just before seven.”

“Shit, you’ve been driving all night,” she breathes. “Where are we?”

“We’re in Co. Sligo.”

She frowns as she tries to figure out why we’re here. “We’re in the middle of a farming field, aren’t we?”

“Sort of,” I say.

“Gabriel,” she says, looking around. “Why the hell are we here?”

I take a deep breath and start the engine, letting the car coast down the hill until the ridiculously big, wooden barn and farmhouse comes into view.

“Ohmygod,” she breathes. “Is that a barn?”

“Yes,” I say, “but it’s not a working one anymore. They just have a few horses and lots of land.”

“What are we doing here?”

“I thought you could learn to ride a horse.”

She turns to me, clearly not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Are you joking?”

“Yes,” I say, laughing at the expression on her face. “Of course I’m joking. Have you ever even touched a horse before?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Have you?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell?”

I ignore her while I park the car.

“Gabriel,” she says as she climbs out of the car to follow me up the wooden steps. “What’s going on?”

I knock on the door three times and then take a step back, hoping she’ll be the polite, charming Yara she normally is and not the annoyed, angry one that’s currently tapping my arm.

“Shh,” I say to her.

When the frail, grey-haired old man pulls the oak door open, I smile at him. He smiles at me in return.

“Yara,” I say, nodding my head at him. “This is John Joseph Edwards.”

“Hi,” she says, holding out her hand to him as his pale blue eyes stare at her. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“He’s your biological grandfather,” I whisper.