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“Hope is fine. No need to chain me here.” She runs her fingers along the counter, collecting an errant, shriveled petal, and throws it into the trash. “I’m staying. I have my savings. I won’t starve between the time your parents kick us out and when we settle into the new place. Whenever it might be.”
Tears well in my eyes. “I like you.”
“And I…like working here.”
She’s uncomfortable, but she likes me right back.
I don’t press her on it. I do send her home early, though. She’s been fretting over these flower arrangements for a week now, staying late nights to make sure they’re exactly what she envisioned them to be.
I’m more than happy to be the one closing up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Amara
“My cute, adorable roses.” My lips brush along the soft white petals. “Mama’s going to be back first thing in the morning.”
More flower-talking. I know, I know. But they’re my children. I love them as if they were cute little newborns without the crying and pooping part.
Perfect.
I do one last sweep of my shop. The flowers are ready for the freelance delivery guy I hired to drive them to Luna and Julien’s wedding tomorrow. It’s a big order that won’t fit in my truck, and though it breaks my heart, the guy’s reliable.
Besides, I’ll be there to help set them in exactly the right place. I insisted.
I’ll set the flowers and leave.
I’m not a guest for obvious reasons, which was kind of depressing but understandable. The thing we have outweighs any PDA we’re avoiding like the plague.
We’ll kiss in public, one day.
I’m in no hurry.
I think.
“Sleep tight, babies.” I wave at each one of them as a final goodbye for the night. “You have a big day waiting for you tomorrow.”
Next on my list is to lock up and walk home. Stretch my legs. Breathe.
Which neither of my men would approve.
I’ve been trying to be a good girl. Each evening, I called them when it’s time to head home. Carter has never been late, not once. Killian always arrives early.
They’re still on edge even though no one’s tried to attack me since the asshole. I’ve been searching for him. For anyone suspicious. There’s been none. Not even the strange man Opal told me about two weeks ago.
It’s time to spread my wings and fly. I’m not some caged animal.
My mom might be fulfilled with her role as Dad’s flashy doll that smiles and says the right thing at the right time. She loves being his aging and yet functioning pony, and he likes parading her around.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t be trained.
My relationship will never be like my parents.
Resolve wraps itself around my chest, fueling me to do what’s right by me. I’m walking to our apartment alone.
A-fucking-alone.
I switch off the lights in the shop, leaving the back one on. Just in case one of my flowers has nightmares and I won’t be here to console them. They need it. I don’t care that it’s a waste of money.
