She felt a ghost had tapped her on the shoulder when she awoke to her dark and otherwise empty room. Just like every night before for the past month, it took her a few moments to realize she’d woken up. She didn’t remember what in the dream had finally woken her, only what it had been about.

            Him.

            They were all about him. She even occasionally expected to feel his warmth as she turned over and stared at the empty sheets where he'd once slept. Nothing but darkness greeted her. There was no trace of him. She sniffed softly, almost expecting to catch his faint scent of cigarette smoke, or the soft rose perfume they were showered in on their wedding night.
            She could almost sense him. If she closed her eyes, she could reach out and place her hand on the firm fabric of his tuxedo. She could see the reflection of woman that looked nothing like herself in his eyes. Soon the memory passed. She paused long enough to feel her heart beat with longing, and it was over. She had as much control over the memory as she’d had the experience, which was little if none at all.
            When the memory left she let her eyes flutter open and gaze upon the canopy of their four poster bed. She’d never be able to explain why she still slept there. She hadn’t the heart to purchase a new bed. She hadn’t even been able to get rid of his things. His family had come in, and her tears had rushed them out. Yes, the experience had been fleeting, but an experience it was. A few months marriage had left enough of an impact to permanently fix her desire.

            Why had she waited?

            What a tease she’d been. She was a silly little university student who didn’t know what she’d wanted. He’d been an athlete. A rich athlete at that. That man could’ve had whatever woman he’d wanted. He’d chased after her. It’d been a game at first and nothing more, and she knew it. Eventually he’d fallen, and it was no longer just a game. The thought almost made her sick with sorrow.
            To her, it had always been a joke. She’d run from his longing arms, insisted that he’d have to catch her first. They were a cat and mouse, or a crow and a butterfly. He’d even called her that after the years it took her to stop running. She was forever his pretty little butterfly. What a stupid creature she was.
            Eventually she had fallen for him when she realized his intentions. It wasn’t long before she engaged, then married. Only a moment in time later, he was gone, and she had nothing but a bump to show for it. Well, a baby wasn’t nothing, she knew that. Still, if she hadn’t been so stupid, they’d have been married longer. Maybe then her baby would’ve gotten to know its father.
            She rubbed her stomach, which was since no longer so small. He’d known he was going to be a father. He’d stayed in life long enough to experience the joy that brought. She’d become a widow with a baby bump when he passed.
            “It’s okay,” she assured her unborn child staring down at the mound. “I promise I will get us through this. I will do it just for you.”