Anger flashed in his eyes. Calliope glanced at the mug in his hand he was trying to ignore. The look was enough to make the gentle suggestion and he sipped, frowned, looked into the mug, then sipped again.
“This isn’t bad.”
“Your compliments do make my head spin.” Calliope sipped her own tea and stopped fighting her growing feelings for him. Seeing him with her sister, being with him in the eucalyptus grove, talking with him—the connection between them was becoming stronger with every passing moment. And as much as she wanted to fight it, she couldn’t. She may as well attempt to hold back the tide.
“It happened fast,” Xander said after another moment. “Talia’s addiction. Lightning-fast. She was the sweetest kid. I can’t remember a time she wasn’t racing around the house with Alethea. Peas in a pod couldn’t have been tighter.”
“Sisters of the heart.” Calliope knew many of them, Holly and Abby for instance. The two had met in kindergarten and had been inseparable ever since.
“Our mothers are good friends,” Xander said. “They lived across the street from one another and Alethea and Talia were born less than a week apart. Talia was a surprise baby. Their only child. I can’t even imagine their pain.”
Yes, he could. Because Calliope could see it reflected in his own eyes. “You must have been what? About ten when Alethea was born?”
“Twelve. Awkward age for a boy to have a new sibling.”
“Yes, I’m sure you really suffered for it.” Calliope rolled her eyes. “She worships you, you know. More importantly, she trusts you. That’s why she came here.”
“I know.” He drank more tea. “I’m not sure if that’s a relief or if it terrifies me. How do I fix this, Calliope? She found her. Talia. She walked into the dorm room they shared and found her best friend dead.”
The pain in his voice scraped against Calliope’s heart. She reached out and took his hand, squeezed hard until he looked at her. “You can’t fix it. You can only do what you’ve been doing. You can be there for her. You can be her advocate and fight for what she needs. Not for what other people think she needs. Including you.”
He nodded and looked down at their clasped hands, stroked his thumb over the pulse in her wrist.
It was all Calliope could do not to shiver. This man’s touch confused her so much. He both soothed and awakened, comforted and excited. And she wanted it all. For as long as she could have it.
Because she’d known, from the second he’d arrived in Butterfly Harbor, that he wouldn’t stay.
“It might be wise to begin accepting things are going to change, Xander,” Calliope said. “Whoever Alethea was before Talia died, she’s different now. A trauma like this, it transforms them. You all need to embrace whoever it is she’s becoming. Whatever she wants to do. Disagreeing, fighting with her, telling her she’s wrong—the only thing that will do is drive her away. And you’ve already seen how far she’ll run when she feels trapped.”
“Almost sounds like you’re describing the stages of a butterfly’s life. Only she’s coming out of a cocoon not of her own making.” Xander lifted their hands and pressed his lips against the back of her knuckles.
“There are vast similarities. Life transforms us every day, Xander. Events shape us and mold us into whomever we are supposed to be.” And whomever we’re supposed to be with.
“Do you know before I came to Butterfly Harbor I don’t think I ever gave a thought to butterflies? Now I can’t seem to have a conversation without them.”
“They have a way of insinuating themselves into one’s life. Especially here.” And maybe now he had something to spark that imagination of his. “I need to head home. Paige will be bringing Stella home soon. Will we be seeing you at the beach bonfire Friday night?”
“Friday? Ah, no. I’m hoping we’ll be heading home no later than Thursday.”
Calliope uncurled herself and pulled her hand free of his. “We both have a lot to do in the coming days, then. Keep your eye focused on what’s important.” She handed him her mug, and she leaned down and brushed her lips across his forehead. “Good night, Xander.”