The Butterfly Box(182)

After despair came anger. He thrust the palm of his hand against the wet tiles of the shower room as his lungs filled with fury, causing him to wheeze in torment. He thought of their first kiss, their first touch, their wedding day and their initial marital contentment and felt nothing but hatred and loathing. Then he recalled with precision the many hurtful things she’d said to him, the uncaring manner in which she had treated him and bit his lip with self-loathing. He had taken it all because he loved her. But now he had suffered one humiliation too much.

‘I will never forget the face of the Polperro beauty.' Diego said, running his finger down Helena’s face, where it lingered on her satisfied lips before following the line of her chin, pulling it towards him and kissing her.

Helena sighed with pleasure. ‘When do you leave?’ she asked, carelessly revealing the desperate whine in her voice.

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’ she repeated, the sweat breaking out on her forehead and nose. ‘You mean, that’s it?’



‘You know your problem?’ he said, shaking his head at her.

‘What?’ she replied, pulling away in offence.

‘You’re too needy.’

‘Needy?’ she retorted. ‘I’m not needy.’

‘Yes you are, mi amor. You’re needy and it’s suffocating. You’re like an overwhelming octopus. Once in your arms a man feels he can’t escape.’

‘How dare you,’ she snapped, climbing out of the hotel bed.

‘Helena, mi amor, I’m not criticizing you,’ he insisted, smiling in amusement at her sudden change in humour. ‘You’re a beautiful woman. You’re fun, too. I’m sure you break hearts all over Cornwall.’

‘But not yours.’

‘Helena,’ he said indulgently. ‘Come here.’ She walked sulkily back to the bed where she sat down on the edge and allowed him to caress her hair. ‘You’re like a fallen angel. You found me because you were lonely. You’re a discontented woman, any man can see that. But don’t worry, there will be others.’

‘What do you mean, others?' she exclaimed in disgust.

‘Other men. Surely, mi amor, I’m not the first man you have betrayed your husband with?’

‘Well, of course you are. What do you think I am? A whore?’

‘Please, don’t misunderstand me,’ he said quickly, attempting to correct his error.

‘I want you to go,’ she said icily, suddenly regretting that she had ever met him. Hearing the echoes of Ramon’s indifference resound across the years she wondered why she had only remembered the magic.

‘Helena.’

‘I do. Now!’ she continued, getting up and throwing his clothes at him. ‘I wanted you because you remind me of someone. But I’ve been a fool! You’re

as much of an illusion as he is. I’ve been dreaming, but I’ve now woken up.’ Diego squinted at her, trying to understand what she was saying. ‘Get out!’ ‘Come on, Helena. Don’t be cross,’ he cajoled, reluctantly standing up. ‘At least let us part as friends.’

‘We were never friends in the first place,’ she replied. ‘We were lovers, but now that is gone, we are nothing.’

‘What happened to this “illusion”?’

‘He never really existed,’ she snapped. ‘Just like you.’

‘You’re too desperate, Helena. You drive men away.’

‘Go!’

‘It’s true. But we made good love,’ he said with a smirk, pulling on his shoes. ‘You’re a desirable woman, Helena Cooke.’

‘I don’t want to see you ever again!’ she shouted after him. The door slammed and he was gone. ‘God, what was I thinking?’ she exclaimed to herself, sinking into the chair. All that remained was the unmade bed and a heavy sense of self-disgust. She held her head in her hands and heaved with fury. How dare he think she would betray her husband with just anyone? How could she have been so misguided? She thought of Arthur and was suddenly filled

with shame. What had she been reduced to? Arthur was guilty only of adoring her. What was the point of clinging onto the shadow of Ramon when Arthur was real and his love absolute? She had made a terrible mistake.

When she arrived back at the house it was dusk. The late summer sun had sunk behind the town making way for a bright harvest moon. She felt weary and defeated. To her surprise she saw the light on in the bedroom, indicating that Arthur was home. Her spirits rose like bubbles, slowly at first but with increasing speed, until she yearned to run to him like a child and apologize for treating him so badly. The thought of Arthur’s familiar smell, his cosy embrace and his encouraging smile filled her with remorse. She longed to curl up against him like they had done when they had been newly wed and feel that sense of security, that sense of intimacy and friendship. She wanted to forget Diego Miranda for ever. She wished she had never gone near the pub that day. How close she had come to losing everything for a pitiful infatuation. Why was it that she was constantly chasing dreams?