Chapter 42
“S he wasn’t like the other mothers. I knew that, but I—” Levi’s hand raked through his hair, his fingers twisting as if grappling with demons clawing at his skull. “I was just a damn kid. I couldn’t get her attention or feel any emotion from her unless I pissed her off. I was tired of indulging her interests.”
His eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed to swallow everything in its path, like endless, pitch-black voids. Behind him, the red sun settled on the graves. I remained frozen, unable to blink or process everything yet.
Lucie knew Mom.
“I wasn’t ashamed of her. I was fucking angry!” Levi said. “She let them walk all over us and treat us like freaks. I could have protected us, but all I ever wanted was—”
His hands convulsed, gripping his face and hair, his lips pressed into a tight line as though suppressing a scream that threatened to escape from his scarred soul and break his invincible mask. My heart fractured with him, bleeding along his side in the cemetery.
“For her to show you she loved you,” I whispered, my hand trembling slightly as I reached out to him, unsure if he’d let me. “She may not have done it the way you wanted it, but you know those notes are love letters to you, right? She pushed you away because she didn’t feel worthy of being your mom and didn’t know how to do anything differently. You were the reason she lived.”
That was why the music score from his birth was horrible. It was because she couldn’t keep him. But the one after was tender and calm, when she had her son back. She was a pure, lonely soul who survived a lifetime of abuse by living in her own music’s world. Her brain might have been wired differently, but she was the most creative, genuine, resilient person I knew.
I brushed his hand, and he straightened his spine, his hard eyes landing on me.
“What happened to her is not your fault,” I said, my fingers wandering over the dry blood on his knuckles. “She could repair any instrument but couldn’t do that with humans because she hated herself for being different.”
A label can be belittling sometimes. I was the traumatized kid who lost her mother, and people pitied me and shielded me all my life because of that label.
My fingers grazed her grave, and I swallowed hard. “But she always let you be yourself, no matter what you loved and who you were.”
She understood what a dream meant. Lucie and Mom were friends, and now it all made sense. They made each other’s dreams come true. God, I love them both so much.
“I shouldn’t have let Patrice go,” Levi muttered, his eyes widening slightly as he stared absently in front of him. “I should have torn him limb by limb. I should have smashed his skull and carved his skin out until he—”
“Levi, no.” I brought my hands to his face, standing on my tiptoes so he’d look into my eyes. “You’re not a monster. You’re better than that.”
He tilted his head to the side, leaning in to my touch. “Am I, really?”
“Not doing it is what differentiates you from being evil,” I said. “He’s trapped in his own demons; don’t let your demons devour who you are. You’re stronger than they are.”
“Still trying to redeem my soul?” His lips tilted into a thin artificial line, and his hands closed on my wrists, pulling my hands away from his face. “Too bad you were conditioned to be with me.”
I frowned. “What?”
“My mother planned those music scores so you’d be stuck with me.” A low, ominous laugh rumbled from him. “She manipulated you so I wouldn’t be alone and miserable.”
I shook my head. For someone so intelligent, he was so clueless when it came to feelings. “She couldn’t have forced me to fall in—”
I bit the words, taking a step back.
“You—” Levi blinked. “You what?”
“Nothing.” I brushed him off.
“Dalia.” His voice, deep and somber, chilled me to the bone.
“I wanted to tell you tomorrow, at the family dinner… if you still want to spend Christmas with me?”
“Yes.” He closed the distance between us, his icy hands capturing mine on his chest. “Tell me.”
My heart threatened to come out of my chest, my cheeks burning hot. “Why? What would it change?”
“Everything.” His eyes on me begged and ordered at the same time. “You have to tell me.”
I sought my courage in one last deep breath. “I fell in love with you, Levi Delombre, and not because of Lucie or the scores.”
When he’d opened that door for me nine years ago, I was dying inside. But when I looked into his gray eyes, it felt like something had awakened in my heart. Every Wednesday, he would wait for me, and soon, Wednesday became my favorite day of the week because I’d get to see him.
The only boy I ever wanted. The one who understood me and protected me. The one I fell for at first sight.
“You love me,” he whispered as if he couldn’t process the words or quite believe them.
“Yes,” I said, this time with a slight smile. When he opened his mouth to speak, I posed my finger on his lips. “Don’t say anything back. That’s my moment. You savor it.”
He nodded. “Can you repeat it?”
“No.” I chuckled. “Not yet.”
“You really love me.”
“Yes.” My chin quivered. I’d just given him my heart. He was so beautiful and so haunted, I had no chance not to fall in love with him. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat, flashing one of his scowls. “You should go home to your family, little thief. I’ll haunt this cemetery a little longer. It’s free entertainment for the dead today.”
I pressed a kiss on his cheek and pulled back. “Okay.”
He turned to fix his mother’s grave, and I scanned the path leading out of the cemetery, then back to Levi.
It was like two choices. Two destinations.
I returned to him, draping my arm over his as I nestled my head against his bicep.
“What are you—”
“You’re my family too,” I said.
His muscles tensed.
“I finally found a nickname for you.” I paused. “Butterfly.”