Chrysalis Days & Butterfly Nights [Wattys 2023 Shortlist]

15

15

She found the wardrobe straight away, not that Luke had hidden it in any way. The doors were opened with a flourish and Helen stood back, assessing the contents, one arm across her chest, the elbow of the other resting upon it, her hand beneath her chin. She looked from one side of the dark wardrobe to the other and back before reaching in her hand.

There remained a gap between the clothing Luke had bought for himself and the only remaining item of clothing of Elaine's, but Helen's hand didn't go anywhere near the wedding dress. Instead, she shifted the hangers looking at each piece of clothing as she moved her hand along. Then she began to take the hangers from the rack, holding up the clothes one-by-one.

"No. Fine. No. That's cute! Ghastly!" With each word, Helen either added to one pile on the bed or another. Luke began to feel a little judged. Helen held one skirt up that wasn't really a favourite. "And this? This needs to be killed with fire. No. Don't take it to a charity, you won't be doing anyone any favours. Fire. Trust me. Ooh, I like this top! Can I borrow it?"

She didn't even wait for his answer, untying the plaid shirt and shimmying it from her shoulders. She rolled up the top she had asked to borrow, looping it over her head and then sliding her arms into the sleeves. Once wearing the top, she gathered the strands of her wig from under the collar and swished them free.

"Look, I know I don't have great taste and all, but I'm only just starting and ... Don't! Not that one." He almost dived across the room as Helen reached for Elaine's wedding dress. As he felt a sharp sting across the back of his hand, he retracted it, rubbing it with the other. "Please don't. Say what you want about anything else. Just not that one."

"Your wife had magnificent taste." Helen trailed her fingers along the material, such a delicate touch it almost looked as though she hadn't touched the dress at all. "It's not that long since you lost her, is it?"

Luke had no idea how Helen knew. He hadn't mentioned Elaine much, if at all, that he could remember. The pictures downstairs didn't look that old or out of date. He didn't live in a complete mess, as so many other men might under these circumstances. For all Helen knew, Luke's wife could be out, or away.

Then, when he thought about it, it must seem quite obvious. Going out at night to a reservoir. Bringing Helen back to the house without a hint of fear of someone coming home to catch them. And this wardrobe, half-empty, the other half filled with only Luke's female clothing. If Luke had kept this side of himself from a partner, he wouldn't have those clothes where they could be found.

"Two years and three months. I could tell you how many days, if you'd like?" He watched as Helen gave a slow shake of the head. She touched the wedding dress one last time. "It's still very hard to understand or deal with, so I'm sorry if I snapped."

Helen pulled him into her arms and it made Luke feel like a child hugging his mother. Even now, he still couldn't believe how much leeway he gave Helen. It was as though they had known each other for years. Technically, they had, but realistically they had met for the very first time only an hour ago. It all felt more than a little overwhelming and he found himself returning the embrace, burying his head into Helen's shoulder.

He didn't cry, though he did feel that well of sadness that threatened to overflow every time he thought about Elaine for too long. He tried to pace those thoughts, usually. Tried to spread them out through fear if that if he thought about her for too long, or too hard, he could end up swallowed in a pit of sorrow he may never escape from. The worst part was, he wanted to fall into that pit. He wanted to do nothing but think about her and cry for her and he had fought against that every day for the last two years. He doubted he would ever stop having to fight it.