Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 24266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I rolled my eyes. “You can take the honeymoon trip, Leo.”
“Thanks!” He disappeared.
Moments later, the sound of footsteps hitting the stone made me turn around.
“Mom?” I smiled at her as she pulled me into a hug.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“The same as I was when we spoke earlier this morning.”
“So, constipated and grumpy?”
“Funny.” I smiled and offered her my seat, but she refused. Instead, she moved to the railing and looked out at the garden.
“I miss Mrs. Foster so much,” she said. “When you and Dahlia went across town to college, we became the best of friends.”
“I know.”
“She loved you like you were her own son.”
“I know that, too…”
“We never did understand why Dahlia broke up with you out of nowhere, though,” she said. “I never bought what you told me about the cheating. That wasn’t in her nature at all.”
I said nothing.
“Her mother assumed she was just going through an emotional crisis, but she assumed it would be temporary.”
“Shouldn’t you be talking to me about Carmen instead of Dahlia right now?”
“Anyway—” She waved away my suggestion. “I hope you’ll figure that out and see if things with her are salvageable. You’ve been promising me a grandbaby forever, and time is ticking.”
“It hasn’t been forever, Mom.”
“Ha!” She snorted. “Okay, since you were like nine.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“You don’t remember your father ghosting you on Career Day in the sixth grade?” She looked into my eyes. “You told me right then and there that you would have a kid someday and you’d never do that to him. Or her.”
I remembered that vividly, but I didn’t mention it.
“I’m not saying you have to pop out a baby just for me, of course, but fatherhood has been something you’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, so I just—”
“Hold that thought, Mom,” I interrupted her. “I need to go handle something.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.” I headed to the door. “Before it’s too late.”
TWENTY-THREE
Dahlia
Icouldn’t sleep.
No matter how often I tossed and turned, adjusted the thermostat, or played my “calming rain” playlist, I couldn’t shut my eyes for more than a few minutes.
Too restless to try other methods, I rolled out of bed and pulled on my favorite overalls and boots.
Grabbing this week’s task list, I slipped into my car and drove straight for Blooms & Letters.
When I stepped outside, Everett grabbed my waist from behind and spun me around.
“I hate that you didn’t tell me,” he said. “You should’ve…”
“Sir, we don’t open for another few hours.”
“Cut the shit, Dahlia.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s best for me has always been you, and as much as I can see why you felt the way you did, you should’ve told me.”
He pressed a finger against my mouth before I could explain myself.
“Yes, I would’ve kissed you and told you it’s okay,” he said. “Yes, I would’ve told you that we could keep trying, year after year, and if that day never came…”
He paused and pressed a kiss against my lips. “It would’ve been okay.”
I shook my head, feeling tears welling in my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re emotional and you’re not getting married to Carmen anymore.”
“Fuck Carmen.” He held me tighter. “I’m still in love with you, Dahlia. I’ve never stopped being in love with you.”
“I’m in love with you, too.” My voice cracked.
Before I could say another word, he kissed me so hard and deep it took my breath away.
“Did you leave those thorns on Carmen’s bouquet on purpose?” he whispered.
“Of course, I did.”
“What about the thorns on mine?”
“Huh? I never sent you any.”
“Yeah, you did,” he said. “I received them last week I just didn’t say anything.”
“I promise I didn’t.” I was confused. “I was planning to send you some cacti, but I held off on that.”
“Hold on…”
He let me go and rushed to his car.
Several minutes later, he returned with a bouquet of bright white roses I never handled.
“These,” he said. “The return address is the garden, and you wrote a petty little note. I don’t know why you sent them to my mother’s house, though.”
I flipped the tag over and read.
You’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life.
You still have time to fix it.
For Dahlia
“These say for Dahlia,” I said. “Not from…Someone else had to have sent these.”
“Your mom sent him those.” Gertrude was suddenly walking behind us. “Well, I sent them on her behalf. It was one of her final requests to me, and clearly the boy has come to his senses.”
She looked at her watch. “Since it’s four in the morning, I take it that you both came here early to help me troubleshoot all the messy irrigation spots in the covered areas?”
There was no point in saying otherwise.
“Dahlia Foster,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine. “Can we pick up where we left off?”
“Depends on which location you’re referring to.”