Page 49 of Butterfly 6, Phase 1

“Lenika…”

“What are you hiding from me?!” she shouted.

“I’m hiding everything from you. I only want to show you the good things,” he admitted. “I need a fighting chance before you see my flaws.”

“Ezra, I’m not expecting perfection. As I remember. As I heal, I’m not expecting for every memory to be rainbows and sunshine.”

“Some of those memories are so dark you can’t find your way through it,” Ethic admitted. “You’ll leave.”

“As long as you’re honest with me, I promise I won’t. I’m trying my hardest to get better for you and for those kids. I’m trying to remember.”

His lips claimed hers, melting her, and serving as both promise and warning. When he pulled back, his gaze remained. She was here with him, but she wasn’t present. She wanted to be; he could tell. She wanted to love him as deeply as he loved her, but she was missing pieces of the puzzle. She felt it, but she didn’t know it.

“I used to be your air. You used to do this thing where you overthink everything, and I could tell you were so nervous around me. All the time.” His baritone seduced her as he kissed her shoulder. “You would just stop breathing. I would count the seconds to see how long I’d leave you breathless, and you legit wouldn’t fucking inhale. I’d have to remind you, and like magic, your chest would move up and down, you’d relax, and you’d lend me a little trust. Trust to keep you safe, to love you right, to fuck you right.” Another kiss to her shoulder.

“I’m still nervous around you. I still forget to breathe. That’s the one thing that hasn’t changed, apparently,” Alani replied, amusement in her tone as she glanced from True to him and then back.

He tilted her chin upward until their lips met. Baby on her breast, his tongue exploring her mouth, Ethic was entranced. She was a woman, her essence whole, her duty sovereign, her influence heavy. Alani’s femininity, her vulnerability, and her ability to tame his wild, made Ethic crave her. It was an unending circle, a vicious cycle that kept him on his toes. He never understood how a man forgot the value of his wife. A wife was chased. A wife was a receipt for proof of purchase. He had worked overnight shifts to save up to afford her worth. He loved to show her off. He proudly watched people fall in love with his wife at hello. He enjoyed knowing she belonged to him and that he was taking such good care of her that all niggas could do was watch and wish. She was the most valuable thing in his possession. On no day would he take her for granted. By omitting his sin, he knew he was risking so much, but what burden it was to ask a man to confess twice. The single most vicious act he had ever committed was against the woman he loved, and his tongue didn’t know how to form the words to tell her again.

“After you’re done nursing, I’ll take her so you can rest,” Ethic said, only pulling away far enough to squeeze words between them.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” Alani said, breathless because the man really did give her butterflies. Every touch, every lingering gaze, every act of devotion, was like a match to gasoline.

“Of what?” he asked. He got distracted so easily by her womanhood. He kissed the side of her neck before meeting her eyes.

“Of that,” Alani giggled. “Of being adored. Of the way you treat me. Just because I can’t remember what made us, doesn’t mean I don’t recognize what this is. I remember others. I remember being mistreated, being cheated on, slapped around, arguing, and feeling crazy all the time. I remember love not looking anything like what I’m looking at right now. You make me feel like I’m somebody worth going the extra mile for, Ezra. I missed you today. I miss you all the time when you’re not here. Even through the fog, I recognize my connection to you. I was afraid at first because it just felt foreign. I felt lost and controlled by a man I barely knew, but I’m learning that your control is appropriate. It’s well-intended. It’s thoughtful. I’m safe here. I’m loved here, and even though this house feels like it isn’t mine…”

“Everything and everyone under this roof belongs to you, baby,” Ethic interrupted. “We all serve one queen.”

Alani was his peace, but she was also his rebellion. She had so much power over the man that everyone else received when they crossed his path. On a good day, she sent him into the world as a benevolent man, a patient man; on a bad one, she sent out an intolerant king. A woman held power in that way when she had the keys to a man’s heart.

“I trust you completely,” Alani whispered. “I’m afraid to, but I’m going to anyway. Please don’t make a fool out of me.”

Ethic traveled through every doubt in her head as he stared at her. She was vulnerable. She was in the weakest state of her life. Alani was lost, and Ethic was her compass. She was letting him lead, and he was purposefully leading her astray, away from a truth that would make him her villain. The faith she had in him was undeserved.

“I won’t,” he answered. Only he was. He was making a fool of her, taking advantage of her trust with willful deceit. His insides burned in shame, and his soul was laden with remorse. Every moment he allowed to pass without telling her the truth would be damaging in the long run. He was on a countdown to losing his wife, and he knew it was inevitable.

Ethic awoke before his morning alarm. The sun hadn’t begun to rise, but he got up anyway. He eased out of bed and walked into his closet. His foot landed on something sharp, and he paused mid-step. Bending down, he retrieved a cufflink. He frowned as he looked around the closet. It was designed to his specifications, and it looked like a department store. The average person wouldn’t have noticed that things were awry. Bella and Mara had put it all back after Alani had taken her medication and gone to sleep, but Ethic was precise. He arranged his things a certain way, and they weren’t how he had left them. This cuff link had come out of his top drawer. He knew because they had been gifted to him by Redneck Larry’s wife after his funeral. He had never worn them, had never even touched them, in fact, so one should never have found its way to the floor. He stood, put the cufflink back where it belonged, and then pulled out his gym attire.

He slipped on Nike performance tights and threw on hoop shorts on top. He remained shirtless and then crept out into his dark home. Making his way to the basement, he halted when he noticed the light to his home gym was on. He stepped inside to find Mara mid-spring on the treadmill. She stopped her routine abruptly, finding relief as she heaved and straddled the moving belt. Ethic diverted his eyes, respectfully, from the purple leggings and matching sports bra she wore. Mara wasn’t dressed provocatively, but with the type of physique she had, he would have to be blind not to notice. He wished she had asked before entering his space. It was rare that he had to share his home gym. He had to force Alani to join him.

“I didn’t know anyone else was up. I’m sorry. I just wanted to get my workout out of the way before anyone needed anything,” she explained. “Is this okay?”

“You’re good. You’re welcome to use the gym,” he said. He moved toward the weight bench and plated his bar. “You go pretty hard,” he said, glancing over at her.

She smiled. “Weight training and Pilates mostly,” she replied. “But I always warm up and cool down with a quick run. I’ll get out of your way.”

“It’s big enough for us both. Don’t rush out on my behalf,” he said.

Ethic put his headphones in and found a corner in the room before starting his morning routine. He pumped iron, swiftly lifting the bar as he did chest presses. Three sets of 25 before moving on. He worked his body evenly. He wasn’t one of those men who only had strength in his chest and arms; his legs were equally as strong. On top of that, he was lean. After strength training, he moved into yoga.

Mara watched his reflection in the mirror in front of her as he moved. He finished with a three-mile run. By the time he was done, he was dripping with sweat.

“You just made me look like a chump in here,” Mara joked, smiling as she deadlifted an 80 pound bar.

Ethic smirked as he toweled off. “You’re going to hurt yourself with that form,” he commented.

“This is how my trainer taught me,” Mara defended.