“Oh yeah?” I asked with the fakest attempt at casual that I had ever heard. It was laughable. I would have laughed if I hadn’t wanted to cut my f**king skin until I bled.

Damn it! I would not feel this way!

So I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I found my shiny happy people place in my head and got my shit together. Because as much as it hurt, I had to hear about Maggie. I was starved for her. I craved just the sound of her name. So even though my body and mind labored under the turmoil she unleashed inside me, I would suck it up. Because nothing could keep me from finding out what she had wrapped beneath the newspaper in my lap.

Ruby took another deep breath and continued. “I hadn’t seen her since right after you had come to Florida. Lisa had mentioned that she had seen her at that coffee shop in town. She’s working there now.” I nodded, encouraging her to keep going before I decided that I couldn’t hear any more.

“She looked beautiful as always. Though I can tell she’s lost some weight and she was already too skinny,” Ruby rambled and I felt the guilt for the possibility that I had anything to do with Maggie’s weight loss. My hands clenched around the package until my fingers ached.

“Did she seem…okay?” I couldn’t help but ask. Because if she wasn’t…

What would I do? If Ruby told me Maggie was miserable and depressed, would I break the promise I made to myself to leave her alone? I didn’t know. The only thing I did know was that I couldn’t live my life knowing that she was unhappy. My refusal to contact her, my reasons for sending my letter, was for her to have a clean break. To let go of me and to live her life.

But if she was as miserable being away from me as I was being away from her, then I would throw all of my foolish good intentions straight out the window.

“Yes, Clayton. She seemed okay. A little uncomfortable maybe, but she was good,” Ruby told me and I hated the selfish disappointment that I felt. What sort of ass**le did that make me? Did I want Maggie to be unhappy? Of course not. But if she was doing alright, then it confirmed I had made the best decision in leaving her alone. And that was a hard pill to swallow, even if it was the right thing to do.

“Well, that’s…uh…good to hear,” I stuttered, looking down at my white knuckles. I wasn’t sure I’d survive this conversation. This was tearing me apart. Ruby eyed me again as if waiting for me to grow another head or something.

I sat up a little straighter and met her eyes. “That’s great actually,” I said more firmly and forced myself to smile. Ruby’s face relaxed marginally.

“Yes, it is,” Ruby agreed. She cleared her throat. “She came in to look over the new books. I told her it was good to see her but I tried to leave her alone. She didn’t seem to want to talk much and I didn’t want to push her.” I could only imagine how awkward seeing Ruby had been for Maggie.

There was a moment of silence and I thought that was it. But I should have known better. Ruby was notorious for dragging a story out. You could either find it endearing or exasperating. Right now I was leaning towards the latter.

“She got some books and then just as she was leaving she handed me that. She said it was for you. For your birthday. She asked that I make sure you got it because she didn’t know where to send it.” Ruby gave me a pointed look then. One that clearly said she thought I was an idiot for keeping my whereabouts a mystery from Maggie. She just didn’t get how hard that decision had been for me to make. How some days I questioned my judgment so loudly that it took everything in me to not pick up the phone and call her. Maggie was my weakness. My compulsive addiction that once fed wouldn’t let go.

At one time, I thought she was the healthiest, purest thing in my life. And part of me still did. But now, with a clear head, I was able to see how the darkness had tainted so much of what we were. And Maggie needed more than what I could currently give her. The back and forth, tug and pull of my feelings about that beautiful girl had become a daily struggle. One that no matter how much time passed or how much distance was between us, would never let up.

“I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to give it to you, Clayton,” Ruby told me, resting a startlingly piercing gaze in my direction. For all of her feigned ditziness, it concealed a sharp mind and an even sharper eye. Ruby saw more than I ever gave her credit for. And something told me that she knew all too well how hard I struggled, even with the strides I was making.

I grimaced in understanding at her hesitance. I got it. Really, I did. “It’s cool,” I assured her, hoping like hell she believed my pile of bullshit.

Not waiting any longer, I pulled at the wrapping and tossed it on the floor. At the first glimpse of the dark, charcoal butterfly on the cover, I had to sit back and take a minute. Because this girl was going to undo me from a thousand miles away. She was getting ready to rip my f**king heart out.

You see, I recognized that butterfly. Because I had drawn it myself. For her.

For Maggie.

“What the hell?” I asked to myself, pulling the leather bound book from the last scraps of paper. Opening it up, I realized it was a scrap book. Page after page, Maggie had carefully placed my drawings on plain mattes. They were the ones from my bedroom wall in Virginia. And the ones I had given her.

Every single one was there. Every. Single. One.

Ruby was looking at the pictures over my shoulder as I flipped through. I turned to my aunt. “When did she do this? When did she get my pictures?” I asked in absolute disbelief. I was stunned by what was in my hands. Like a piece of me had been returned. As though, once again, Maggie May Young had swooped into the rescue.