Page 25 of Metamorphosis

You know how they say all things must come to an end?

Well, not everyone saysall thingsmust come to an end. I took the “good” out of it and made it my own. I used to take comfort in that. That things—people, situations, even seasons—couldn’t last forever. Because it meant bad things had an end, too, which meant that a new day meant a new beginning.

It was hard to say which was harder, now that I had the chance to compare the two: dreading the end of good times or hoping the bad times would fade come morning.

Even though Capo hadn’t mentioned when we were going back to New York, I knew our time in Greece wouldn’t last forever. Just like our time in Sicily didn’t. Sooner or later, we would have to return—home.

New York was our home, because our house was there, but I was hesitant to call it that. Sicily felt likehometo me. A safe place to be. Maybe New York would feel that way, too, since I felt different after our time away…more secure in my own shoes.

I looked down at my feet. I was wearing a pair of pewter heels. They went perfectly with the Grecian style dress I’d gottenwhile in Sardinia. The top crisscrossed, and what looked like rope made of silk was strung from below my arms to around my waist, interlacing in a pattern that enhanced my breasts and my hips. A long piece draped along the dress, almost touching the hem. The gorgeous fabric had two slits, one on either side, all the way up to my hip bones. I styled my hair in a low bun and wore a matching headband.

As Capo kept my hand secured in his, a low breeze blew through the warm air and stirred the dress against my legs. It felt like a touch from heaven. And with the man next to me in a fine suit? It was hard to keep my eyes straight to walk.

He’d surprised me with a night out in Athens. He told me to wear something formal, and I knew this dress would be perfect. I could tell by the way he watched me during dinner that he thought so, too. He had that hungry look in his eyes, but not for the actual food.

Like the bike rides we’d taken and the water we’d swum in, this night felt perfect, which was why the thought of going back to New York might have been on my mind. We’d been in Greece almost a month. How much longer could we stay? Capo had businesses to run, and he couldn’t escape his responsibilities forever. And I had to face what I’d left behind and overcome it with this version of myself, which I was still getting to know.

Capo had asked me if I had my wings yet. I could feel them coming in, but I wasn’t sure if it was something that would happen so soon. Yeah, I’d struggled a lot during my life, but this new life I’d been given wasn’t rushing me toward the change. Every day, little by little, my rightful pieces were falling into place. The transformation from prickly caterpillar to satin butterfly was taking my entire life, the hell of it and all, and turning me into the woman I was becoming.

Glancing at the man leading us down the streets, I felt no pressure from him, but an offering of the perfect place to make the change. A safe place.

Him.

Home.

“You’re quiet,” he said casually, but his eyes held a question:What could be going on inside of your head?

I shrugged. “Great dinner. I’m full.”

“Content,” he said.

“Yes,” I whispered and squeezed his hand.

I squeezed it even harder when we melted into a group of people similarly dressed for the night. I’d heard about this place. The Odeon of Herodes Atticus. An outside stone theater that dated back to 161 AD. It was steep-sloped, almost like a bowl with high sides. Beyond, the city of Athens glowed, while the mountains in the distance created rugged shadows. I’d never been to a place with so much history. Not only could I touch it, but I could also smell it in the air. It ran through my bloodstream like a crackle of electricity. Whether from the long history or in anticipation of what was to come, I wasn’t too sure.

“A show?” I said as we took our seats.

He nodded. “The Greek National Opera is performing Carmen.”

I’d never been to anything like this before, and I got comfortable, waiting for the show to start. Capo settled in next to me, and the entire world seemed so right. Besides our wedding, this was only the second time in my life that I wished I could live in a moment for the rest of my life, like I wished to take something from this place that would remind me of the good times we’d had.

That would remind me I was living, and as I lived without the worry of tomorrow, I was transforming into…me.

During a break in the performance, Capo’s phone rang. From the sounds of it—Rocco. Capo had to plug his ear to hear over the sounds that seemed to echo around the stadium.

A minute or so later, if that, Capo ended the call and raked his teeth over his bottom lip. With him, passion and anger were closely related. He only rolled his teeth over his bottom lip when he wanted me or when he was pissed off.

“Something wrong?”

He didn’t look at me, just stared at the actors returning to the stage—they had returned to their roles. “Boo, bam, boo.”

I stared at him until he met my eye.

“We leave tonight, Mariposa.”

“Why?”

“One of my buildings in New York was blown up.”

That line concluded our time in Greece.

We’d be back in New York, back to reality, by the next day.

Returning to the place I considered a battleground—would I be able to keep the wings I’d barely started to grow, or would I lose them before I was able to feel them?

In the moment, it didn’t seem to matter. I reached for Capo’s hand, took a deep breath, and nodded.

All things must come to an end.