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She lowered her head and nodded. “But... I know the drill. God’s mind is above all,” she said, wagging her finger in the air before aiming her half smile at him. Seeing the purity in the blue depths with his very own eyes had him spellbound. “His perfect will, that’s what I always say, that’s what I believe. When God wants me to have a baby—if He ever does—ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from havin’ one.”
He stared at her, and she stared at him. “Can I give you a hug?” she wondered, her face filling with an aching need he was intimately familiar with. So familiar that he closed the distance and opened his arms.
They were magnets. The way she flew into him and wrapped her arms tight meant something profound at the very base of who he was.Shewas more his creator than Quantum was. He lowered his hands over her back, marveling that he was touching her. More profoundness. He was feeling her with his own body and the awe that produced came from secrets in the depths of him he’d one day understand.
“I don’t hate you,” she murmured against him. “I could never hate you. You know that, right?” She pulled back and looked up at him and without thought he lowered and kissed her forehead. Her breaths shook with emotions that he shared with her, just before they were replaced with Fetch’s gift. And just like he said, he suddenly knew exactly why it was perfect even while not having a clue how he’d give her such a life.
His thumb moved over her cheeks, feeling her tears. Happy tears. He felt them. Shared them, even while being unable to produce that. Would he ever be able to?
She grabbed his hand and kissed it then turned at finally sensing Celeste who was watching them from the outer room.
“Guess my time is up,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight one more time. “Never forget who you are, Kaphas. And how much we all need and love you.”
Very aware of Celeste’s eyes on him, he lowered and kissed her forehead once more. “The universes may pass away, but I will stubbornly remain.”
Her big laugh entered him and knitted up a million little fissures as she pulled out of his embrace.
His hands missed her the second she turned and made her way to the door. “I’ll let your other Butterfly in on my way out.”
She gave a peculiar knowing giggle that he instantly recognized. It was one of the many signatures of her soul. She had a secret drawer full of them. A special one for every person she met and touched.
Before she was out the door, his universe shifted to hisotherButterfly. The little creature that called to every appetite within him, both the known and yet to be known.
The moment she entered his room wearing her white habit from head to foot, the air shifted with something he didn’t recognize.
“Hello,” she said, as she entered his room and closed the door, avoiding his gaze. He allowed that one word to meander its way through him, contemplating the odd taste and color in her voice. He’d wondered how she felt about everything that happened the night before. Did she know he’d nearly killed her and the rest of the people there? He wasn’t happy to learn that about the chill-chip. He preferred having others to blame besides his half-baked self. But as much as he dreaded with all his being the death he’d suffer in a few hours, he needed to finish it.Heneeded finishing. As Fetch said, itcouldn’thappen again.
“Why did you come?” he asked, ready to get to that and what still tainted her voice.
He eyed the surprised look on her face. “Well...I thought we were friends,” she said, appearing unsure.
Thoughtthey were friends. “Has that changed?” he wondered, mindful of his new powers stirring oddly in him.
She folded her arms at her waist then dropped them, looking at the floor. “I don’t know, did it?”
“Why would it change?”
She hugged herself and moved oddly about in place.
“Are you in pain?”
She finally met his gaze, and he identified confused anger in it. “What do you mean?”
“You’re moving around like something pains you.”
She made sounds similar to exasperation. “Nothing has changed onmyend regarding our friendship,” she assured.
He recognized the same heat in his blood from the night before as he focused on that one word she’d stressed. Nothing had changed onherend. “Nothing has changed on mine, either.”
“Were you mad at me for talking to that Creole King?”
It was everything surrounding that question that interested him. That odd color was back in her words.
“I wasn’t doing any different than you, now was I? ‘Cept, I spoke to only one Creole King while you spoke toallmy sisters. Also, I knowwhyyou were speaking to my sisters, which wasnotthe same reason I was speaking to that King. In fact, I didn’t speak to him first, he spoke to me, and as a guest, I was obligated to speak back.”
Finally understanding the taste and color in all her words came with more heat in his blood—and alarm. His little jealousy trick had worked. That’s what he was experiencing. Herjealousy.Forhim.NotHandy.
“You find this funny?” she accused, crossing her arms under her breasts now, more agitated.
