Sensing a hand on my shoulder, I turned to see what was wrong, but there was nothing except a small yellow butterfly. This small symbol of beauty brought back memories of past sadness, anger, confusion, pain, and the longing for what was not meant to be. As I sat on the bench, memories overwhelmed me, and I softly began to cry. Mine was a story of love, betrayal, heartbreak. That was my story, but I wanted a different one. Unfortunately, life doesn’t do different.
It was a beautiful summer morning and the birds were chirping while they flew across the field. The entire world seemed perfect. I had to get to work to help Jackson and Sierra, but I had stopped in a little field on the way home to view the flowers, insects, and sky. Everything was just…
“Hello, this is Corben Jonson from the Jonson’s detective agency. How may I help you?”
“My bakery has been robbed!” said a frantic voice from the other side of the phone. He continued to explain to me that someone had taken thousands of dollars from the cash register and the bakery had no security footage to reference. He realized the need for professional help, and immediately contacted me.
“I will do the best I can. No promises. I will be there tomorrow at nine.” I said and hung up the phone.
I arrived at the bakery the next morning to find a beautiful young woman at the cash register. I immediately noted that her name tag said “Mary Coleman” and began to evaluate her. She was a tall redhead with beautiful green eyes, and a smile that lit up the room.
“You must be Detective Jonson. Pleased to meet you.” Mary giggled sweetly.
“Call me Corben. Now, what happened?”
She quickly relayed all the details that her employer, Riley Cameron knew, then apologized saying that this was all she had been told.
The process of gathering evidence proved harder than originally anticipated. As days rolled into weeks and weeks into months, I began to think that the trail had run cold. During this time, however, Mary and I started dating.
One beautiful afternoon nearly a year after the robbery I decided to take Mary to my field for a picnic. This time of year, we were always blessed with millions of gorgeous wild daisies, lilies, violets, bluebells, and buttercups. Most of them had been planted many years ago, and the combination attracted beautiful yellow butterflies. One of them landed on her shoulder.
“Pink-edged Sulphur.” I told her. “Also known in scientific circles as the Colias Interior.”
“Really?” she giggled playfully. “I thought you were a detective not a lepidopterist.”
“Well, there are uses for various sciences in the investigative process that help us be more observant…such as archery, darts, birdwatching, and yes, even lepidoptery. It’s really more of a hobby honestly. I love butterflies. They are beautiful, graceful, sweet, dainty, and when they land anywhere near you, they just flutter their little wings right into your heart. Kind of like you.” I pause, then continue. “You were my butterfly. When all of this began, you were the beautiful, graceful, sweet, dainty little butterfly that flew into my heart and landed there. I have loved you ever since I met you and I always will.” I lower my voice. “No matter what.” I leaned in and gave her a long, affectionate kiss.
“Sorry. I gotta take this. Hello, this is Corben Jonson from the Jonson’s detective agency. How may I help you? What? I’m kinda busy…ok…ok. Sure. I’ll be right there. Bye.” I began to pack up my things.
“What was that?” Mary asked.
“That was Sierra and Jackson. They said they had a lead, but they needed to meet with me immediately. I’m so sorry, and I’ll try to make this up to you later.”
I arrived at the bakery, and I never will forget what happened. It felt almost as if it had happened in slow motion.
“Sierra, go stand by Corben. I don’t know how hard he might take this.”
“Cor, remember how we never found any fingerprints on the register besides Riley and Mary?” Jackson asked me.
“Yeah…what does this have to do with anything?” I replied equally confused.
“I have no idea how we didn’t catch this right away. Upon review of the security footage from the Fennel’s Fish Fry, we found that Mary went into the building the night the cash was stolen and opened the register. There is record of her key opening it built into the memory of the register, and frankly I don’t see how she couldn’t be guilty. I am so sorry.”
After Jackson said all this, my world slowly faded to blackness. I awoke a few hours later on Jackson’s couch. He told me that Mary had been arrested. She was soon tried and sentenced. Obviously, by now any evidence of our relationship had dissolved. I guess “no matter what” has a few conditions after all.
Now, I shall forever have to live with the pain and betrayal of my butterfly kiss.