“I love you so much too Lucas.” I kiss him back.
Afterward we spend hours in the space, working out plans for the salon.
There’s not a lot more on his end that needs to be done now.
He’s going to have the aircons installed, the chandelier I want in the center of the room put up, some shelves and the plumbing for the basins.
I sit on my phone and email the colour company I want to work with after looking at their deals, finding a salon package I was happy with.
Then I start ordering the furniture and the decorations I want for the space.
I’m going for coastal vibes. Lots of neutral tones.
It’s all happening so fast, but once we came up with the idea there was no stopping us.
By the time we finish up, it’s late afternoon.
I’m staring out through the front windows. Still in disbelief this is what I get to see every day at work.
The sun casts a soft golden glow over the water. A kaleidoscope of butterflies drifts pasts, their purple wings flashing like stained glass in the light.
My heart stutters.
My mum loved butterflies.
It was one of our favourite things to draw together. She even had a small tattoo of a lilac butterfly on her ankle. I used to trace my fingers over it when I was little. I have one the same as hers now.
I press a hand over my mouth. I don’t know if I believe in signs… but this feels like one.
A message from her. A quiet nudge telling me I’m on the right path.
I close my eyes and take a long breath, letting myself sink into the memory of her.
Just for a moment, it’s me and her again.
After a couple of minutes, I feel Lucas come up behind me, his arms slipping around my waist, a soft kiss landing on my neck. I lean my head back onto his chest.
“I feel like pasta. Want to go to Onzo’s?” he murmurs into my neck, referring to the little Italian place a few shops down.
I open my eyes and smile up at him, nodding.
“Heck yes. I’d kill for one of their carbonaras right now.”
I grab my bag and glance once more at the counter—the one we just…
We walk down, holding hands like a normal couple. But I realise we’ve never actually talked about whether we are a couple. It feels like we are. Should we have that conversation? It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, the label makes me nervous. I don’t know why, I don’t want anyone else but him. I remind myself to stop worrying about what other people might think and focus on what feels right. Lucas looks over at me, like he can sense the storm in my mind. He smiles and squeezes my hand tighter. And somehow, that’s all the answer I need.
We sit downin a little booth at the front of the restaurant. Our conversation drifts between our plans for the salon, his business and our families.
About halfway through dinner, a group of women walk in and sit a few tables behind Lucas. One of them keeps staring at us. I shake it off—I’ll have to get used to the attention. It’s no secret that women stare at Lucas whenever we’re out.
Once we finish eating, I go to stand up.
“I’m heading to the ladies’. Can you pick a dessert? It all looks amazing.”
“Of course,” he says, eyes dropping to the menu as I walk away.
After using the toilet, I’m washing my hands in front of the mirror when the tall woman with reddish-brown hair—the one who had been staring earlier—walks in. She heads straight toward me. I glance around, unsure why she’s looking at me like she knows me.
