Free All for Allie by Julie Bailes Page A

try to reach my face higher to her, attempting to reconnect our lips, but she pulls back a little further. She sits up, just on top of my pelvis and uses her hand to flip her hair back behind her shoulder. “Why butterfly? What about me reminds you of a freaking butterfly?” I place my hands to the ground behind me and push myself up, making sure she remains in position on top of me.
    I lean back and rest my weight on my hands. “Butterflies are miraculous, just like you. They’re one of the smallest insects on the planet, creeping along and struggling to survive. They’re fighters, and they don’t give up. They hide away in their cocoon; shut themselves off from the world, much like you did after Phil’s death. They stay cooped up and fight to become who they’re meant to be, but it isn’t an easy process. They struggle with identity. Are they to hatch and become a moth or a colorful, beautiful, floating butterfly?
    “You could have easily sat in your room, cried or starved yourself to death, but you chose to suck up your pain and rise above it. You chose to fight. You came to terms with death, loss, and depression. You swallowed it down and got over it. Transforming into this beautiful and graceful woman, who will do anything for anyone. A woman who loves with all her body, mind, and soul. A woman that I can’t wait to make my wife someday.” I lean up and place my lips against her forehead. “My beautiful and feisty butterfly,” I add, kissing her forehead.
    I lean back slightly so that I can look her into her eyes. They glisten in the moonlight as she swipes away an escaping tear. “Wyatt, you’re the corniest person I’ve ever met, besides me,” she sniffs, smiling as I pull her to me.
    “Like I said, you love it.” I roll her to the side of me so that her back is flat on the ground. “You know how strong my love is for you, don’t you?” I ask. And no, I shouldn’t start being all sentimental and shit, but life’s short, and I need to know that she understands just how much I love her.
    She raises her brow. “What? Yes.”
    I swallow hard in an attempt to keep tears from coming to the surface. She notices my reaction and looks at me with a face filled with concern. Taking my face between her hands, she pulls me down to hers . “Wyatt, why would you ask me that? What’s going on?” she asks, her voice a slightly strangled whisper.
    I shake my head, but remain silent. She pulls my face closer to her so that my forehead rests against hers; she then slides her hands down to the sides of my neck. “Tell me, please,” she begs.
    I suck in a deep breath before speaking, “Nothing, butterfly. You and I both know that we aren’t promised a tomorrow, and if anything were to happen to me, and I wasn’t able to tell you just how much I love you...I want to be positive that I’ve shown you all the love I have for you. I don’t want you to have a doubt in your mind that you own my heart. You’re the only one for me,” I explain.
    She nods in response. Her eyes search my face as her teeth latch onto her bottom lip, biting it as if she’s nervous. “I’ve never questioned your love for me. I know that you love me, Wyatt. No question about it.” Her hands massage the sides of my neck as she speaks. I avert my eyes to the sky, silently thanking God she’s never doubted my love for her. Also asking him to remind her every day that I’m away, that my love for her will never fade, and I hope hers doesn’t either.
    “Hey, look at me. Tell me what’s really going through that head of yours,” she urges, taking one of her hands to run her fingers through my hair. I can’t answer her. My words will be choked, and then she’ll really be on edge thinking that I’m hiding something. Which I am, but she doesn’t need to know that now. I kiss her once more and push myself up away from her.
    I grab some wood and throw it on top of the fire that’s almost out. As I bend down to poke the wood around,