The Butterfly and The Moth

32

The ride to Sterling's house was filled with silence.

I wasn't really sure what to say. And I think, by the tension that was forming in the car, tension that was so unlike any tension I had ever felt, that Sterling didn't really know what to say either.

This was a situation I had never expected to live through. Especially, I had never expected to live through it with Sterling. I was trying to place this new version of Sterling in my mind. It was so different from Sterling that I have met my first night in Sapphire Cove. He had been rude and defensive. He had treated me like I was somebody he never wanted to know.

And now, Sterling was the only person who was here. Here for me, that's what he said.

I had to accept that. I had to accept that Sterling had seen me so clearly that he was able to see what I was hiding from everyone. I have been hiding what happened like it was an oath I made with Eric. An oath that he had forced me to make. An oath that I thought could never be broken, because what were the consequences of breaking that oath? The consequence was losing my sister and losing my family.

But Sterling had broken the oath of silence. All alone, he had been the one to break it. And even when he broke it, he hadn't left me standing there, holding the broken pieces. He had taken some of the pieces himself, holding them like they were made of glass. I was holding some; the pieces were cutting me, slicing my skin and causing me to bleed.

But now, the glass was cutting Sterling too. I think that was the cause of the tension. He was bleeding now, too. He wasn't bleeding as much as me, but his skin was being sliced too.

And I don't think he knew what to do with the blood. Both his, and mine.

"Hey," Sterling said softly, interrupting my rambling thoughts. "You okay?"

"Oh," I said awkwardly, blinking reality back into my eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay."

We were parked in front of his house. I stared at it, remembering the time that I had been here before. That memory seemed dull, hazy and damaged. I had been running then. Running from Sterling and running from my truth, and from my memories. I was running from myself, before I realized I would never get far enough away from me. I was stuck with myself.

Sterlings house was a sight to behold. It was a house like the ones I had seen in the movies. It was a house almost like the ones I used to see when I was in my old city, when I would try to prolong my arrival at my own home.

My eyes kept sweeping over it. It was nicer than Daisy's house. It was bigger, too. I kept imagining what it would be like to call a place like this home. A real home, it felt like.

"You're lucky to live here," I finally said, my eyes still glued to the house, but I could feel the way Sterlings eyes were glued to me.

It took a moment before I felt his eyes leave my face. I glanced over at Sterling, who was looking at his own house now. His eyes had a far-off look in them, and I wondered what he was thinking.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice sounded distant, just for a second, before he sighed. "I guess I am. I've never really thought about it."

"Really?" I asked him, slightly surprised.

"It's just a house," he shrugged. "The house doesn't matter as much as what's inside it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, wondering if he meant the material items. The furniture, the clothes, the shoes...

"The people," he answered me. "That's what makes a home, not the house."

I felt my face soften, as I tilted my head. "I wouldn't know."