Butterfly by Elle Harper Read Free Book Online

Nice eyes, too.’ Her eyebrows waggle
suggestively.
    I try to think of something to
say, but I can’t because she’s right. He is gorgeous. But I’m not
interested in that. I never will be interested in a man like
that.
    Not now.
    She takes my silence for
agreement and carries on. ‘He’s pretty handy, too, so he can fix
things if stuff goes wrong. And you need the help.’ She elbows me
with excitement then glances at her watch. ‘Sorry to gossip and
run, but I need to leave now if I’m going to make my scan
appointment. Is that OK?’
    I slap a hand to my forehead.
‘Crap, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.’ I make ushering
movements to her. ‘Go. I’ll be fine.’
    She takes off her apron and
hands it to me. ‘OK, I’ll see you tomorrow, then. And give him the
job.’ She pokes my arm.
    I stick my tongue out and walk
behind the counter to tidy up what’s left of the cake display,
trying to get my mind off having to see him again. I think about
his gaze on mine as he told me to breathe. I think about how
soothing his voice was. And for some strange reason, it makes me
feel calmer again.
    I’m serving two young mums with
coffee when he returns. I know it’s him before I even look over,
because there seems to be a big presence filling the empty space.
When I finish up, I look over at him, and his dark eyes are on
me.
    He looks thoughtful. Probably
thinking what a weirdo I am.
    ‘Hi.’ He smiles. It’s warm and
friendly. Not a trace of disgust, which puzzles me.
    I fake a smile and nod to the
supplies he’s holding. ‘You didn’t have to do that. You should
probably be resting anyway, after your accident.’
    ‘It’s no problem.’ He shrugs.
‘It won’t take me long to fix.’
    I don’t realize I haven’t
spoken, and I’m still staring until he carries on talking.
    ‘Shall I go in and make a start,
then?’
    ‘Huh? Oh…yes. Thanks.’
    ‘OK, then.’ And he heads into
the kitchen.
    After a few minutes, I pace up
and down behind the counter, rubbing my sweaty palms down my apron.
I need to apologize for what he saw, and I mentally rehearse what
to say. I mean, what do you say to someone when they’ve seen
you looking like a freak?
    I head towards the kitchen.
Stop. Go back to the counter and resume pacing. Luckily, the two
mums are engrossed in a lively conversation about baby puke and
nappies and don’t notice my strange behaviour, and no one else is
in the shop.
    Eventually, I muster up the
courage to walk to the doorway. He’s bent under the sink. His
T-shirt stretches taut over the muscles on his back, and I wonder
why I’m even noticing that. It should make me scared to be in this
confined space with him, as it did before, but I’m not. It should
make me want to run out the door and never come back, but
strangely, it doesn’t.
    ‘Look…’ I start, and bite my
lip.
    His head turns, but he doesn’t
get up. ‘Oh, hey. I didn’t know you were there.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I blurt out before
I can change my mind. ‘About what happened earlier, I’m sorry.’
    He drops his spanner to the
floor and sits on the tiles. He doesn’t say anything for a second.
Just regards me with kindness in his eyes.
    I bite my lip again.
    ‘You have nothing to be sorry
about,’ he says. ‘You had a panic attack, that’s all.’ It’s as if
his look lasts an eternity, but it’s probably only a few seconds
before I tear my gaze away from his.
    ‘You know, deep breathing really
helps when you have one. Just try to concentrate on slow, deep
breaths, or maybe start counting slowly in time with the breath. I
know it’s hard to do at first, but it works.’
    I lean my head on the doorway.
‘Yeah. It’s not always easy to remember that when you’re in the
middle of one.’
    ‘It also helps to focus on one
particular thing to ground yourself.’
    ‘Ground myself?’
    He stands up and leans against
the worktop. ‘Yeah. Try and find an object or something to
concentrate on while you’re having