The Mark of the Butterfly, by SR

The evening was turning out to be perfect. Alberto had taken me to dinner at La Piccola Trattoria, very close to the beach. He knew I loved pasta. He also knew I had a five-year-old daughter, Mar, although they hadn't met yet. We'd met about ten times in total, and this was the first time we'd done it alone, without anyone from our Pilates class. I'd signed up for Pilates a few months earlier. At forty-five, there were muscles in my body that asked for it almost daily, and a small group had formed in class where there was a great atmosphere. I needed to unwind for a while, since living alone with Mar took up my time 24 hours a day. I know I had it coming, but the perfect partner doesn't come when you want it, but when you least expect it.

As a child, I also dreamed of the perfect guy and had boyfriends, of course, some more handsome, others nicer, others I shouldn't have had... but the boyfriend I dreamed of never came. There was a time when I felt guilty and blamed myself without being clear about what I was doing wrong. But the years passed and my time to be a mother was running out, so five years ago I decided to become a single mother. It wasn't a decision I took lightly, and despite how hard those five years had been, it's still the best decision I've ever made.

After dinner we had a drink at Moai, a cool beach bar. chillout On the beach, with beige hammocks and candles on the tables. Alberto was charming. He seemed to know what I wanted to do before I even said anything. Finally, someone to share my life with? Maybe a father for my little girl?

My work as a lawyer freelance It allows me to balance my work and family life, but I still run around all day, always arriving late. Anything for Mar. She's a sweetheart. Raising her alone has brought us together so much; learning to eat, to sleep with one eye open, to make decisions for myself, thinking of both of us... I think Mar is quite similar to me, except for that little butterfly-shaped patch she has at the end of her back, above her right buttock, which I suppose is a legacy from her father. When I put her panties on, they almost cover her completely, and she gets mad because she likes to see the butterfly, so she pulls her panties down a little.

When we finished our mojitos, a bit of a breeze blew up, and Alberto took advantage of it. He leaned close to me and kissed me sweetly. Slowly, very slowly. The truth is, I expected it and longed for it. Without saying anything, we got up and went for a walk to his house. We entered arm in arm, we arrived at the living room with our hair disheveled and without shoes, in the hallway almost everything that separated our skin flew, and when we reached the bedroom and turned to open the door, a stain appeared, half-covered, sticking out over his underwear. My stomach and mouth touched. With a trembling hand, I pulled my underwear down a little further, and the rest of the stain, shaped like a butterfly, appeared. That butterfly was inside me, fluttering, filling a void just below my chest.

Alberto turned down the bed. "Come in," he said, "you're shaking." "Do you believe in destiny?" I asked him. He looked at me in surprise, and I laughed as I finished removing his underwear... and night merged with morning.