Suddenly, I start to feel grumpy, and I can’t quite explain it. Maybe it’s the sight of Logan ordering flowers for someone else, or maybe it’s the headache that’s slowly building behind my eyes. Either way, I know I need to leave the shop and get home.
“Hey, you all take care. I think I’m coming down with a headache and need to get home to rest,” I say to Ava, trying to keep my voice steady.
She gives me a concerned look. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! Please take all the time you need. We’ll manage Petals and Bloom just fine.”
I nod. “Thanks, Ava. I know I can count on you guys.”
With that, I step out of the shop. The cold breeze sweeps across my face, and I shiver at the sudden chill. The cool air helps, but not enough to lift the heaviness pressing on my chest.
The tension in my body begins to ease, but my mind is still wrapped up in thoughts of Logan and everything I’m desperate to forget.
I walk slowly, my steps feel heavy, with the thought frustrating me with how much they still affect me after everything.
I wave down a cab, and it pulls up to the curb, stopping abruptly.
“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asks with a friendly smile.
I give him my address and slide into the backseat, sinking into the worn leather as the headache pounds stronger with each minute.
My thoughts spin in circles, making it worse. The throbbing in my head grows, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.
I lean back, closing my eyes, but no matter how much I try to clear my mind, it’s impossible to stop the thoughts.
Logan’s face, his voice, the way he ordered those flowers-it all keeps replaying like a loop I can’t shut off.
I press my fingers harder against my temples, hoping to ease the pounding headache.
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror, his voice gentle. “Rough day, huh?”
I nod, not even bothering to open my eyes. “Yeah, something like that.”
I had been trying so hard to avoid thinking about Logan, to push him out of my mind. But hearing his voice again today brought back memories I can’t even put into words.
His absence in the days before I finally left his house had been uncalled for, cold. He didn’t even have the decency to tell me he was tired of having us around.
My heart tightens at the thought, and sweat breaks out across my face. My mind drifts back to the beautifully packed flowers: the bouquet that I’m sure is for another woman.
So all those talks about love, about how he regretted everything, were lies. I had almost believed him, had let myself think maybe he had changed.
But no. He’s still the same, still playing his games. And here I am, still letting it get to me.
“It’s for Samantha,” a voice taunts me in my head.
I shake my head slowly, refusing to accept it. He told me he let her go, that it was over between them. But the voice reminds me, *Four years ago, he said the same thing.*
“You’re so dumb. You believed him,” another voice says, louder this time, making my chest tighten with frustration.
I shake my head again, trying to push the thoughts away. This can’t be happening. Not again.
“We’re here, miss,” the cab driver calls out, snapping me back to reality.
“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, quickly gathering my things. My hands feel clumsy like they don’t belong to me, but I manage to pull myself together long enough to pay him and step out of the car.
I step onto my front porch with a smile, knowing I’m about to see Shawn’s face.
He’s my boy, my anchor. I love him more than words can express, and he’s one of the reasons I’m still holding it together.
Logan might have me on an emotional rollercoaster, but Shawn keeps me sane.
As I walk inside, the sweet aroma of flowers fills the air. It’s so strong, almost overwhelming.
I pause for a moment, taking in the sweet scent that fills the air. I’ve been at the flower shop all day, but this aroma feels different-stronger, almost overwhelming. Why does it feel so intense in my house? Something about it feels off.
Just then, Shawn bursts into the room, his face lighting up. “Mummy, you’re back!”
“Yes, son!” I say, squatting down to his level. “Did you miss me?” I kiss him on both cheeks, unable to resist.
“Yurk, Mum! That’s gross!” He giggles, scrunching his nose.
“But you like it,” I tease back, enjoying how I’m making him feel.
“No, Mum! I’m not a girl! It’s only girls who do that.” He puffs out his chest, mimicking what Buddy always tells him about being a boy, even with me around.
I can tell he’s referencing Logan, and my heart twists at the thought. The memory of Logan ordering flowers earlier today crossed my mind, making me uneasy.
“Oh, that’s cute,” I say quickly, not wanting to dive deeper into those feelings. But rather I focus on Shawn’s laughter.
I kiss his forehead, smiling. “What’s this smell I perceive?” I ask, wrinkling my nose playfully.
“Guess who was here, Mum!” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
I furrow my brow, confused. “Who? Who came to our house, Shawn?” I finally ask, unable to guess.
“Mum, where’s the fun if I tell you?” he replies, folding his arms dramatically across his chest.
I know he’s still adjusting to not being at Logan’s place. He’s been understanding about it, but sometimes I catch him lost in thought, and I can tell he’s missing his buddy.
“Mum!” he calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Do you miss him?” Shawn asks, his innocent eyes searching mine.
I’m taken aback by the question. What does this three-year-old know about missing someone? I pause, trying to figure out who he’s talking about. He’s had Ethan in his life before Logan, so it’s possible he could mean him.
“Who, if I may ask?” I reply, curious.
“My buddy! Do you miss him? I know you like him… a lot,” he says, his voice filled with earnestness.
“Wow,” I mutter, shaking my head in disbelief. “How old are you, son? I just want to be sure I’m not talking to a fifty-year-old person in a three-year-old body!”
“Mum, why are you asking me?” he giggles, clearly enjoying the banter. “Stop it, Mum! You know my age!”
“Of course, Shawn, I know your age. I just want to hear it from you,” I reply, smiling.
“Mum, I’m three years old! Soon I’ll be four!” he announces proudly, puffing out his chest like a little hero.
“Soon, indeed!” I say, ruffling his hair affectionately. “And what do you want to do when you turn four?”
“I want a dinosaur cake!” he exclaims, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Dinosaur cake it is!” I laugh, imagining the fun we’ll have planning his birthday. For now, I’m grateful for this moment, the joy of my little boy filling the room.
“Can we have a dinosaur party, too?” Shawn asks, bouncing on his toes.
“Absolutely!” I replied.
He thinks for a moment, with a furrowed brow. “Um, maybe a treasure hunt? And lots of balloons!”
“A treasure hunt and balloons it is! You have some great ideas, my little party planner,” I say, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Yay!” he cheers, clapping his hands. “And can we get a big dino to come, too?”
I chuckle, imagining a giant dinosaur waddling into our living room. “We’ll see what we can do about that, but I can’t promise a real one. They might eat all the cake!”
“Okay, but maybe a toy dino can come!” Shawn suggests, his face lighting up.
“Deal!” I agree, feeling the excitement.
“Mum, you haven’t guessed who came here today,” he says, pulling me back to the topic I hoped to avoid.
Just then, Rosa walks in, her eyes sparkling. “Welcome, Nadine!”
“Thanks, Rosa!”
“Ma, can you tell her who stopped by today? She says she can’t guess!” Shawn nudges, clearly eager to share.
“Mr. West stopped by to check up on us,” Rosa says, smiling. “He promised to come back later this evening.”
“Oh?” I responded, surprised. I struggle to find the right words.
Rosa steps back and returns holding something that makes my jaw drop in shock.