My Butterfly

close to hers.
    “How could I forget about you?” she asked. “If I forget about you, I’ve lost the happiest years of my life.”
    I tried so hard to force a smile, but the more I got lost in her eyes, the more I wanted this all to be a dream—a dream where I wake up and she’s telling me that she’ll stay in our little town forever.
    “Jules,” I said.
    “Hmm?” she asked.
    “Sometimes I love you so much it hurts,” I said. “Is that normal?”
    Her smile faltered and turned sad before it grew happy again.
    “Mm hmm,” she said, nodding her head.
    “How do you know?” I asked.
    “Because I’m normal, and it hurts me too sometimes,” she said.
    I felt the corners of my lips naturally edging up my face. Then, I let my eyes rest in hers for a little while. It was always comfortable and happy in her eyes. Then, suddenly, I remembered the flowers again, and I broke our stare to retrieve them. After snatching them from the passenger’s seat, I brought them to rest at a place in between us. Then, I watched her eyes lock onto flowers.
    “It’s a butterfly weed,” I said, in almost a whisper.
    She took the flowers into her hands.
    “It’s pretty for a weed,” she said. “I’ve seen it before?”
    I smiled.
    “Yeah, along roads and in fields, pretty much everywhere around here,” I said. “They keep cuttin’ ‘em down, but they always grow back. They never give up,” I added, softly.
    I watched her smile brighten as she stared into the flowers. And eventually, she came to the note attached to the stem by the little white ribbon and stopped to follow over its words.
    “Do you know why they never give up?” I whispered near her ear.
    She slowly shook her head back and forth.
    “No,” she whispered.
    I met her eyes.
    “Because they want the butterflies to come back to them,” I whispered. “They need each other to survive.”
    Her gaze slowly fell to the flowers clasped within her slender fingers.
    “Julia,” I said again.
    “Hmm?” she replied.
    “You’ll be my butterfly, right? You’ll come back to me?” I asked.
    She looked up at me again, and I could see her eyes filling with water. I didn’t mean for her to cry. I didn’t mean to make her sad.
    “I love you, Will Stephens, and I’ll never forget you,” she said in a soft, broken voice. “I’ll be your butterfly. I’ll always come back home.”
    I wrapped my arms around her then and held her as tightly as I could. I imagined never letting her go.
    “You’re brave,” I said, “doing this all alone.”
    I felt her body press harder against mine.
    “Don’t leave,” I whispered into her ear.
    She held me a little longer, then slowly pulled away when her parents came out to meet her.
    Her lips seemed as if they were trying to force a smile when her eyes met mine again. I knew she wouldn’t stay, and I didn’t expect her to, and I knew she knew that.
    I watched her turn and felt her hand squeeze mine for an instant and then let go as she made her way to her parents.
    “Mr. and Mrs. Lang,” I said, tipping my cap.
    “Hi, Will,” her mom said to me with a warm smile.
    I could tell she had been crying too.
    I watched as Jules hugged her mom and then her dad and then made her way back to me.
    “You ready?” I asked her.
    “No,” she softly said, shaking her head.
    “Sure you are,” I said, doing the best I could to muster up a smile.
    I walked her to the driver’s side of her jeep. Then, she pulled me close and pressed her lips against mine. The feel of her kiss sent a shiver down my spine. It was almost as if her lips were sealing her promise—the promise that she’d come back.
    But eventually, she pulled away and locked her green eyes in my blues.
    “I’m not brave,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just determined, and if I don’t leave here alone, I just might change my mind about all of this.”
    My smile brightened, and my eyes faltered and fell to the ground at our feet before returning to hers.
    “Go get your dream, Butterfly,” I said.
    I watched as a wide, perfect smile eventually found its way to her face. Then, slowly, she climbed behind the wheel.
    “Drive carefully, Jules, and call me when you get there,” I said, leaning into the driver’s side window to meet her lips one, last time before she pulled away.
    “I love you,” I added, when our kiss broke.
    “A million times a million?” she asked.
    She was forcing a smile now, so I did too.
    “A million times a million and