My jaw drops, and my eyes widen in shock as I glance between Shawn and Rosa, unable to form a single coherent word. I see the concern mirrored in both of their eyes as I stare at the object in Rosa’s hands.
“W-where did you get this?” I stutter, turning fully to Rosa, desperate for an explanation.
“Mr. West stopped by and said I should give it to you,” she replies.
“Oh? That’s… thoughtful of him,” I manage to say, reaching out as she hands me the flower.
It’s the exact flower Logan ordered at the shop. The scent is unmistakable-so strong, I thought it had followed me home from work. All this time, I had convinced myself the flower was for some random woman he was seeing. The idea had left me grumpy, my mood spiraling into a headache that drove me to leave work early. But now, the truth is staring back at me-the flower was meant for me all along.
My heart skips a beat, and my mind floods with a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them lingering long enough to make sense.
I glance back at Rosa. She watches me intently, waiting for a reaction.
I have no idea how to feel about this whole mess.
“Is there a note?” I ask, searching through the flowers for a clue. My fingers brush each petal, but there’s nothing. “There’s no note,” I mutter, realizing it aloud.
Confusion knots in my chest. Why is he sending me flowers? Is he trying to apologize? I don’t want them.
Before I can spiral further, Shawn’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “They’re beautiful, Mom, just like you.”
I smile, my frustration with Logan softening at the sight of my boy. “Aww, thank you, sweetheart.” No matter what, Shawn always knows how to brighten my day.
I kneel to Shawn’s level, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. His innocent smile melts away the last bit of anger I had.
“Do you like them?” I ask, nodding towards the flowers.
He beams. “Yeah! They smell nice. You should keep them, Mom.”
I hesitate, my gaze shifting back to the bouquet. They are beautiful-vibrant, fresh like they were handpicked with care. But that doesn’t change where they came from. Logan.
“Maybe,” I say, trying to sound neutral. But inside, the emotions are swirling again, a mix of resentment and confusion. I stand up, trying to distance myself from it all, but Shawn grabs my hand.
“Are you okay, Mom?” His big eyes search my face, full of concern.
I squeeze his hand gently. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just thinking.”
But even as I say it, I’m not sure what to think. Why now? Why flowers? Does he think they’ll fix everything?
“It’s from Buddy, right?” Shawn asks, his eyes searching mine, curious.
I turn to him, trying to shield his feelings. I know how much he looks up to Logan, even though they’ve only spent a little time together. Somehow, Logan managed to earn his trust, and I can’t figure out how.
“Yes, it’s from Buddy,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
“I knew it!” he says, pumping his small fist in the air.
I pause what I’m doing and look at him, puzzled. “What’s with the fist pump?”
“Mom, Buddy cares. You can tell because he sent you flowers. I wish Buddy would send me flowers, but no, he only sends them to you,” he says, folding his arms with a pout.
“Oh no, sweetheart, don’t say that,” I reply, crouching down to his level. “But hey, what if we share them? Or better yet, I can put them where everyone can see and admire them together.” I offer a gentle smile, trying to brighten his mood.
Shawn’s face lights up instantly. “Let me get a vase!” he shouts, already running off, calling out to Rosa. “Ma, I need a flower vase! Mommy wants to put the flowers where everyone can see them!” He bounces with excitement.
Rosa glances at him, then looks at me. I nod in agreement.
“Wait here,” Rosa says, heading off to find a vase.
Strangely, the headache that had weighed on me earlier, the one that forced me to leave work, seems to melt away.
I wander into the kitchen, hoping to find an empty vase myself. Luckily, I spotted one tucked away in a cabinet.
“Found one!” I call out, just as I hear footsteps approaching from behind.
I carry the vase as Shawn watches me closely, his curiosity clear. Carefully, I arrange the flowers inside, adjusting them until they look just right.
“Mum, where do you want to put it?” Shawn asks, tilting his head.
“How about on the table by the window?” I suggest. “What do you think?”
“That’s perfect, Mum! Let’s do it,” he says, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
Together, we carry the vase to the table. I place it down gently, stepping back to admire it. The way the sunlight catches the flowers-it’s simply beautiful, almost otherworldly.
Shawn stands beside me, with admiration. “It looks so pretty, Mum,” he says softly.
I smile, as I look at the flowers. For a moment, the room feels lighter, as if the weight of the day has lifted. “It does, doesn’t it?” I say, more to myself than to him.
Shawn leans closer to the vase, taking in the sweet scent. “Do you think Buddy will come to see them?” he asks, his voice filled with hope.
I pause, unsure how to answer. “Maybe,” I say gently.
My thoughts drift to Logan. I have no idea what he’s trying to do by sending me flowers. Is this his way of apologizing, or does he just enjoy messing with my head?
“Mum, I’m hungry,” Shawn whines, pulling me back to the moment.
“I thought you ate lunch before your nap,” I say, remembering Rosa mentioned that.
“But Mum, I’m awake now, and I’m *hungry*,” he insists, shaking his head dramatically.
I sigh, giving in. “Alright,” I say, heading toward the kitchen.
“Mummy, let’s make spaghetti and dinosaurs!” he exclaims with a grin.
I look at him, smiling at his pure innocence. Dinosaurs have become his latest obsession, and nearly everything he talks about these days involves them in some way.
“How about spaghetti with chicken sauce?” I suggest, watching his face closely. He pauses, pretending to think hard, his little brow furrowing in concentration.
Finally, he nods, a small smile creeping across his face. “Okay, Mum, let’s start cooking!”
I grab a pot and fill it with water, placing it on the stove. Shawn hops around the kitchen, his excitement bubbling over. “Can I help?” he asks eagerly.
“Of course! Can you grab the spaghetti from the pantry?” I reply, pointing to the cupboard.
He races over and pulls out the box with both hands. “Got it!” he shouts, his face shining with pride.
“Great job!” I say as I open the box and pour the spaghetti into the pot. The water begins to bubble. “Now we just need to wait for it to cook.”
As I pull out the other ingredients, Shawn helps me gather some utensils. “Thanks, son,” I say, encouraging him.
I take the chicken out of the freezer, letting it thaw while the spaghetti cooks. The aroma starts to fill the kitchen as I prepare the sauce.
I lose track of time, but soon the food begins to smell just like I imagined it would.
I carefully dish out Shawn’s meal, then guide him and his plate to the dining table. “Here you go, buddy,” I say, setting it down in front of him.
Just as I turn to head back to the kitchen, my phone suddenly rings, pulling me back to reality.
I hurry through the living room to check for my phone, and thankfully, it’s right in my bag.
I pull it out and swipe to answer.
“Hello, Nadine. Did you receive my gift?” His smooth voice makes me gulp, and I struggle to find my words.
I know I should be angry with him, but suddenly I feel all jittery just hearing his voice. I take a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm.
“Are you there?” his voice cutting through the silence.
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check, not wanting him to know how much he affects me.
Once I feel composed, I clear my throat and respond, “Yes, Logan. What can I do for you?”