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Fredrick studies me, a half-smile tugging at those lips that once whispered secrets into my ear, telling a tale of a boy abandoned, who felt unloved, who felt whole when he was with me. The last was a pretty lie, no doubt.
Brown hair ruffled in the cool breeze as his reddish-brown eyes held a flicker of warmth as if he was recalling a good memory.
“Do you think you'll ever get married?” he asks, the words casual as someone offering a stick of gum.
I lift my shoulders, the gesture as unsure as I feel. “I mean, maybe. If the right person for me comes along.” I hadn't really put much thought into the future; I’m so stressed surviving the present that the future seems far away and unachievable right now.
The air turns chilly as a breeze whispers through the tree, carrying the earthy scent of pine and water. Despite all the things that feel wrong with my life and this situation with Fredrick, I feel happy here, in this moment.
He reaches out, his fingertips grazing mine on the splintered wood of the picnic table. As his warm fingers cover mine, I feel as if the world freezes in place and time stands still. We could be teenagers again, young, dumb, and having fun. Or adults, reconnecting after heartbreak.
And here is the thudding of my pulse in my ears until he speaks. “Do you ever feel like you've already met the right person?”
The words linger as I try to decode what he’s saying... or what he means to say. I finally meet his gaze and see a storm brewing in the depths of his eyes. The world narrows to the space between us, and I pull my hand back, retreating to the safety of my lap.
“No.” Rubbing my thighs, I glance around as if looking for an exit.
His expression falls slightly. “Okay.” The word almost seems to bring him pain as the moment between us passes. The wind whips up again, wrapping around us and tugging all warmth out of our interaction.
I step into my flower shop, hearing the familiar tinkle of the bell. The sound seems to calm my racing thoughts. Fredrick's car has barely pulled away when I catch sight of Emma in the flower shop, her back to me as she speaks with May. Something about her posture seems off, tense even, which is strange for Emma.
May smiles over her shoulder and Emma shifts. “Hi, Lila,” she says without turning around to face me. Her voice sounds too bright, almost false. But before I have a chance to even ask her a single question, she walks past me and slips out the door like a shadow, chased away by the bright sunlight.
“Hey, Emma?” I ask, but she must not have heard me, because she’s gone.
“Let her go,” May says, her words making me think she knows more of what’s going on than I do.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh blooms and plants as I settle into my happy place, though there’s a cold pit in my gut that won’t seem to go away. May still focuses on me, giving me a look that says she has questions but isn't sure she wants the answers.
“How was your date?” she asks, her eyebrows lifting over curious eyes.
I walk around the counter to set my purse down. “It wasn’t a date.” The words sound as hollow as I feel, and I try to push thoughts of Fredrick - and the unsettlingly quiet ride back here - out of my mind.
“Well, you could have fooled me.” The confusion in her tone seems to be asking for further clarification, but I don't want to talk about Fredrick or anything else.
But I can’t just let things lie while she stares at me. I let out a sigh, all the strength draining out of my shoulders. “Fredrick is engaged, May.” I feel like those words should have made everything clear, but I only feel more uncertain.
“Engaged?” May takes a step closer and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Then why—” She doesn't seem to want to ask the question she’s already started.
I’ll respond, anyway. “He needed closure.” My words sound no more convinced than I feel about his flimsy reasoning. I can't help but wonder if he invited me out there just to rub my face in the fact that he's not mine and never will be. I have to remind myself again that it's better this way. Fredrick was never good for me, and I don’t think he’s changed.
She shakes her head, her grey curls shifting. “That man is in love with you, Lila.” The saddest part is that she sounds convinced by her own inaccurate statement.
“Well, if you're right, it's absolutely tragic that he's marrying someone else.” I don't have the energy to argue, so this response seems least likely to lead to further discussion.
“Being with someone else doesn't mean he doesn't love you.” May sounds hopeful. “Have you met this woman?”
I shake my head.” May, it doesn't matter.” The finality in my voice leaves no doubt that we’re through. “What's done is done.”
She sighs, her whole body dropping as the breath escapes her. “If you say so.”
I can tell she's still not convinced, but I don't know what else to say to make her understand that it's over.
“Funny, I always expected you two to wind up together.” With that, she gets back to pushing the broom around the floor, muttering to herself under her breath.
I shake my head, feeling both amused by her antics and sad for the future we both thought would come to pass that we both now know can never be.
As the moments pass, I reach for a vase of lilies and begin rearranging them, mostly to clear my mind and calm my body. Their beautiful white coloring reminds me of weddings and what could be... or funerals, the passing of all hopes and dreams.
