Even Butterflies Die

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Era

I sat on the floor of my hotel room with my back against the door. My soon-to-be husband, Syris, sat on the carpeted floor in the hallway. We conversed through the door like excited teenagers because tomorrow was the big day.

We were getting married after two years of dating. My parents didn’t agree because I was twenty-six and he was forty, and we hadn’t been dating that long, but we were in love. I felt it in my soul that he was the only man for me.

He catered to me not only sexually, but mentally and emotionally. When it was that time of the month, he was there. If I had a regular cold, Syris was there. Picnics, movie dates, outdoor events, staycations, and vacations—he planned them all.

Syris was an alpha male through and through. He controlled everything but in a good way. It didn't bother me because he was older and knew how to navigate life better than I did.

So, following his lead was best for now. Syris and I met the first year of me pursuing my master’s degree. He was the music professor at my university, and we met by accident.

I honestly thought music was listed on my schedule, but due to a food stain on my schedule, I’d missed the first day of my art pottery class because I attended his class.

We’d been joined at the hip since that day.

Syris was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on.

I sat in class that day and looked on in fervor as his muscles in his toned and tattooed forearms flexed from the trumpet he played as he performed a demonstration of the instrument.

His locs were piled at the top of his head, as his white no-collar shirt with long sleeves were rolled and stopped at his elbows. Slim, olive-green pants covered his toned thighs while his shirt hung loosely. Syris’s skin was the color of deep roasted coffee beans. Did I say skin?

I meant to say coating because it was a great offense to reduce a complexion so radiant, to just skin.

His coating was majestic and so were his crisp, white teeth.

Syris’s teeth and smile were his statement pieces, so he never needed to wear jewelry if he didn’t want to.

My baby was a bona fide heartthrob, and I had the luxury of being the woman he chose to carry his last name.

“Butterfly, did you fall asleep on me, baby?”

I smiled to myself as Syris’s deep voice filled my ears and pulled me away from my thoughts of him. The deep bass in his voice always carried a tune straight to my clit, and she undoubtedly throbbed on command, for him to release her hot lava every time.

“Yes, my love, I'm here.”

“Good. Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow? I’ve always told you that marriage is a very big commitment.

It’s a lifetime commitment. Are you really ready to spend the rest of your life with me through sickness and health, rich or poorer, and through all the expected and unexpected storms? ”

I grinned while he spoke because he had no idea how every part of me wanted him and him only. “Syris, I want you, baby, in this lifetime and the next. You got me entirely, my love.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Sleep tight, Butterfly, and I’ll meet you at the altar in the morning.”

I listened as he stood, and I followed suit. “Goodnight, my love.”

Syris gazed deeply into my eyes as the pastor recited his sermon. Our hands were embraced, and I couldn’t help the huge grin on my face. Soon, I was about to be voyaged into a new life.

As excited as I was, I was still very much nervous as well. I had no idea what being a wife was or how to even manage a household. Pottery was my life.

I enjoyed molding as many objects as I could.

My love for pottery and I were one, that’s why I was so glad when Syris said I didn’t have to give up my schooling or pottery once we were married.

Syris squeezed my hand slightly, and I focused and paid attention while he delivered his vows.

We smiled together once he finished, then I quoted my vows.

The love that swirled around Syris’s chocolate brown eyes signaled that he had found his reason to love again. His thumbs caressed over the topside of my hands as our eye contact never strayed. This man was my soulmate; my reason to love and enjoy life with him and him only.

Once my vows were completed, the pastor announced us officially as Mr. and Mrs. Hopes, then Syris could kiss me.

Applause and well wishes erupted as Syris pulled me tightly into his arms and kissed me passionately.

He took my breath away, and my veil fell off from that kiss.

When we stood fully, he kissed both of my hands.

“I’m going to make you so happy, Butterfly. Trust me.”

“I have no doubts at all, baby,” I answered with a smile.

Syris smirked at me before he grabbed me around my waist and together, we walked down the three steps of the altar.

As we descended the aisle with everyone cheering for us, there was one guest’s face, who was covered with complete angst. She was a middle-aged woman with a beautiful milk chocolate complexion and a penchant for designer everything.

From the expensive, elegant black jumpsuit she wore, to the exquisite jewelry that covered her lean neck, wrists, and fingers displayed she had great taste.

Her long black hair was in loose curls as it draped past her shoulders.

She herself was exquisite, but already, I could sense she despised me.

We stared at each other as she slowly rose, and we walked closer to her.

She clapped like it pained her incredibly, while I followed her new line of sight.

A scowl covered Syris’s face as an unknown angry message was passed between their connection. What the hell was that about? Did they know each other? Syris looked down at me, and his face relaxed before he flashed me a small smile.

I returned the gesture, but I know it didn’t reach my eyes. Whoever this mysterious woman was, she was not happy with our union at all. I matched her stare down because I wasn’t in the business of letting anyone punk me. I may not have been Laila Ali, but I could definitely hold my own.

She raised her brow at me, and I arched mine before I looked away, and Syris guided us outside of the wedding chapel, and into the two-door sports sedan that awaited out front for us.

Once we were situated, I turned and waved at our family and friends, then Syris pulled away from the sidewalk and headed towards our honeymoon.

I was absolutely obsessed with our ocean resort in Halla Grove, Coral Hive.

Waking up to the shining sun, beautiful blue waters, and warm sand was so mesmerizing that it was lulling me to never want to leave.

It was surprising how warm the sand was because back home, during the summer months in Holly Springs, IL, the sand was hot as hell.

That’s why I didn’t venture to the beach much.

I looked around the beach area of our resort, and a few couples and their friends were playing beach volleyball.

A portable Bluetooth speaker sat off to the side as my favorite Maxwell song crooned from it.

He sang about being wherever his love was and that he’d be there whenever.

I swayed side to side because I was a big Maxwell fan, and it had been a minute since I heard this jam.

The women outnumbered the men, but nonetheless, everyone seemed to hold their hold while having a great time.

One dark-skinned beauty wearing a banana yellow two piece, leapt in the air and spiked the ball clean in my direction.

Instead of ducking, I caught it and waited for the most beautiful dark, caramel-skinned brother I had ever seen, jog toward me.

Orange swim trunks covered his toned thighs as my eyes wandered up the brick pattern that housed his taut stomach. I had never in my life seen a man with an eight pack. Like where they do that at?

Don’t get me wrong, Syris had a sexy ass body too, but the brother approaching me seemed to live in the gym.

My eyes traveled further up his body, and I admired his dark, oceanic wavy fade.

His lining was fresh, and his sides were tapered, but it was the fullness and light brown hue in his lips that was the statement piece.

The muscle in his jaw flexed as he chewed his gum and stopped in front of me with the most alluring smile that could stop a bull from ramming into a matador.

His six feet and plus height lowered in front of me as I sat on the stairs to me and Syris’s beach house.

My heartbeat sped up because there was no way this man was supposed to be inciting my emotions this way.

I was a very happily married woman, but his aura was pushing me, practically bullying me to give him my attention. I was so intrigued, until he spoke.

“Mizz Lady,” he sang with a heavy island accent.

Chill bumps immediately covered my skin as I shivered.

His deep timbre pierced my honeypot, and my clit jangled like house keys.

Intrigue went out the window, and adoration had flown straight in.

What the hell was going on? How could this stranger persuade my body to react at his command?

Did he know voodoo? He had to be a servant of the dark one because I ain’t never experienced no shit like that before.

Thank God Syris was out running errands because I wouldn’t have been able to explain why I was questioning if I should’ve been married to him instead.

“You’re holding onto my ball for dear life, and I’d really like it back,” he voiced melodiously with a coy smirk on his face.

The way he chewed his gum was erotic as hell also.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I swallowed hard, then nervously chuckled as I handed him his volleyball. “My apologies,” I choked out.

“No need to apologize, beautiful one. “I’m Muse, and you are?” he asked, extending his hand while never taking his eyes away from me.