the corner, and June gasps when she realizes what I've done.
The glass house is lit up from the outside. As we enter, the heat and humidity reach my bones, making me feel like it's the first time I've been warm in months. The vegetation in the house is rich and lush, and once the lights start, the butterflies flit from one branch to another. One of them lands on June's hair, and she laughs with wondrous delight.
"They're all the same kind you tried to save," I tell her. "It's very common. If you want different kinds of butterflies, though, it's all set up for that."
"Are you kidding me?" she asks, turning her eyes to mine. "Kade, this is... I have no words."
"Do you like it?"
"Like it?" She laughs incredulously. "This is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever done for me. But how... how could you afford this?"
"Don't worry about it." I shake my head dismissively.
"Kade." She takes me by the shoulders. "Did you spend all this money just to make me happy?"
"It doesn't matter," I say firmly. "As long as you are happy."
"The happiest," she whispers, and I smile in return. Little does she know the surprises aren't over yet. As I kneel in front of her, her eyes grow wide, and her hand flies up to cover her mouth. "Kade, what are you doing?"
"What I should have done when our parents died," I say firmly, producing a small velvet box from my pocket.
"Kade, I..." She bites her lower lip. "We've only... you know... once, and I..."
"Would you let me ask you first before you start objecting?" I smirk, and she chuckles nervously. I open the little box. Inside, the Miller family ring rests amid the velvet. It's beautiful, at least two hundred years old, and has been passed down for generations. Dad proposed to Mom with this ring and then to Rachel. He gave me the ring a year before he passed away. And now, I'm using it to ask June to be my wife. More butterflies land on us as June gasps at the sight of the ring. "June, I'm done fighting my instincts. I'm done pretending I feel nothing for you... because I love you, and I always have."
She laughs, the sound melodic and like balm to my ears. "Oh, Kade..."
"You would make me the happiest man alive if you accepted. And I swear if you do, I'll spend a lifetime making you as happy as you make me. So, June Wildfox, will you marry me?"
She hesitates, biting her bottom lip. I know she's fighting this because Rachel told her to. But her mother is gone now. Nobody is stopping us from living out our dreams. It's just June and me against the world now. And I pray she sees that too. That she agrees to be my wife. Because it's all I've wanted my whole life.
"Y-Yes," she finally whispers. I slide the ring on her trembling finger, and the sapphire glints in the light of the butterfly house. I pick myself up and embrace June. Her lips find mine, and I kiss her deeply, making up for all those lost years, all that time that we should've had together. "Oh, Kade. Thank you so much."
"You've made me so happy," I mutter against the shell of her ear. "You've made life worth living again."
"Anything's worth it if you're there to experience it with me," she whispers back.
25
Parker
As I roam the streets, I see everything. Inhaling the city's nasty scent, I try to discern people's dirty little secrets from the strained expressions they wear as they pass me on the street. So many fucking filthy secrets written all over their faces, hidden behind expensive clothes, layers of makeup, and untruths spilling from their lips.
Passersby are my favorite kind of amusement. The only thing I have left because I can't deal with the rest yet. It's too fucking much. Eventually, I'll have to admit I've lost this battle even though it’s far from over. But not yet. Until then, I'll remain here, on the streets. People watching. Hating them.
I walk around until it starts to get light outside as morning breaks. I walk until my stomach starts to rumble. I get a takeaway coffee and a sandwich with the last money I have, knowing I'll have to deal with the mess I've made sooner rather than later. But I’m unwilling to admit how fucked up things are just yet.
I think of the painting I left in June’s attic. Her