The past few weeks have been a wild ride, just as I expected. I’ve spent more time at my flower shop and squeezed in several dates.
Some of them? Total snooze-fests. They drone on about themselves-their accomplishments, their families without ever asking what I want.
One guy bragged so much that you’d think I was lucky just to be sitting across from him.
Another couldn’t stop talking about his mom and his pet, which screamed a red flag from a mile away.
Logan’s been away a lot, but he still checks on Shawn when I’m not around, always making sure to send flowers. This time, though, he didn’t come by in person to place the order.
But his absence is obvious even Ava can’t stop talking about the gorgeous man who ordered flowers which I know she is referring to Logan
Even Shawn has noticed, asking where Logan’s been. I just shrug, unsure of the answer.
He followed up the flowers with a sweet message that had me grinning from ear to ear.
Lately, I’ve been exploring more-going on dates, unwinding in clubs, and taking long walks in the park to clear my head. I even visited family but was wary of getting close to friends again after what happened with Sydney.
Yet, through it all, I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me. I turn around, but there’s never anyone there.
It’s a strange feeling, of being watched. It’s not the eerie kind that sends shivers down your spine, but it’s persistent, like someone’s just out of sight, observing quietly.
I try to brush it off-tell myself it’s just my mind playing tricks-but now and then, I catch myself glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing there.
The dates haven’t improved much. Most still feel like interviews where the other person is more interested in hearing their voice than getting to know me.
But I’ve learned to smile, nod, and excuse myself politely when it’s clear the conversation isn’t going anywhere.
The club nights are better. There’s something liberating about losing yourself in the music, the lights, the anonymity of it all.
For a few hours, I can forget about everything.
It’s another one of those days, out on a date, this time with a guy named Chris.
He’s charming, well put-together, and we met through Tinder. From what I can tell, he’s got a good head on his shoulders.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I said with a smile after he asked about my day.
“Well, I’m Chris,” he begins. “I run my own business. It’s a family thing. We’re into transportation, and we’ve expanded enough to operate in five countries across different continents.”
“Wow, that’s impressive,” I say, genuinely amazed.
He shrugs, modestly. “I wouldn’t call it that huge. We’re still looking for ways to grow.”
“But still,” I say, leaning in slightly, “you guys must be doing well. I mean, any successful business is always looking to expand, right?”
Chris nods. “Exactly, Nadine. In business, it’s about staying ahead of the competition and finding new opportunities.”
I nod, intrigued by how grounded Chris seems. Something is refreshing about his attitude, ambitious but not boastful.
We continued talking about the ups and downs of running a business, and I found myself enjoying the conversation more than I expected.
“So, how did you get into the flower business?” Chris asks, his eyes genuinely curious.
I smile, running my fingers along the edge of my glass. “It wasn’t planned. I’ve always loved flowers-how they can brighten up someone’s day with just a simple arrangement.
After working at a flower shop when I was away from New York, I just… decided to go for it. It felt right.”
“That’s pretty bold,” Chris says. “Starting something from scratch like that.”
I shrug, smiling. “It wasn’t easy, but I think passion gets you through the hard parts.”
He grins, taking a sip of his drink. “Passion helps. Especially when things get tough.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m sitting across from someone who listens to someone who isn’t just waiting for their turn to talk. It feels refreshing.
But even as the conversation flows, that unsettling feeling creeps back, that someone is watching.
I glance around the busy restaurant. Everyone’s wrapped up in their world, yet the unease clings to me.
Suddenly, I notice Chris glancing over my shoulder, his jaw tight. Concerned, I turn around, but there’s no one there.
“Are you okay?” I ask, a bit confused.
He shakes his head and waves it off. “I thought I saw someone I know.”
I try to brush it aside, refocusing. “So, what are your hobbies, Nadi?” he asks, steering the conversation back on track.
I grin. “Honestly? I love curling up in bed with a good book and all the snacks I can find. But lately, that’s been feeling a little… dull, so I’ve started exploring more.”
Chris opens his mouth to respond, but something shifts. The air around us thickens, and I can feel an almost suffocating presence approaching our table.
Someone’s gaze bears down on me, so intense it feels like it might burn a hole through my skin.
I glance up and freeze. ‘It’s him.’
My heart stumbles in my chest as I lock eyes with Logan. He stands there, staring at me with an intensity I haven’t seen in a long time.
I don’t know how to feel part of me misses him, but why now? Why here, when I’m finally on a date with someone else? We agreed not to interfere in each other’s lives.
“Nadine,” he says, his voice low but commanding, pulling me back into a past I’ve been trying to leave behind.
I swallow hard, avoiding his gaze, my pulse racing. I can feel Chris’s eyes on me now, with a confused look, and I wonder how much longer I can keep pretending this doesn’t affect me.
I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, but it’s harder than it should be. With one final inhale, I look up at him.
“Hey, Logan. How are you? It’s great to see you.”
“Yeah, Nadine. How’s Shawn doing? I’m sure he misses me.”
I grit my teeth, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. Slowly, I lift my glass and gulp down my wine, letting the liquid wash away the tension.
Why does he have to bring this up now, of all times? It’s not like I’m trying to hide my son, but here he is, strolling in like he owns the place, asking about Shawn as if he doesn’t see him every day while I’m at work.
“So, what brings you here?” I ask, trying to keep my tone steady and normal.
He points to a spot not far from my table. “You see that blonde over there? That’s my date. We came here to have a nice time, and who knows what might happen after,” he says with a wink before turning to walk away.
I take another gulp from my glass, desperately trying to numb the ache tightening around my heart. I can’t bear the sight of him with another woman.
My mind races with thoughts of what could have been; the little moments we shared now feel tainted.
I remind myself that I’m on a date, too. Chris is still sitting across from me, waiting for me to re-engage, but the moment feels utterly shattered.
I turn around and see that Logan is genuinely enjoying himself. He must have caught my gaze because he glances over and gives me a curt nod.
“Bastard,” I mutter under my breath.
When I look back, Chris is watching me with an expression I can’t quite decipher, as if he thinks I’ve betrayed him just by talking to Logan.
“An ex, I presume?” he says, settling back into his seat.
I hesitate. How do I define Logan? Ex-boyfriend? Ex-husband? The truth is, he’s my baby daddy, and that’s complicated enough.
“Yes,” I reply slowly, not wanting to delve into our history.
“Okay, so you still have feelings for him, right?” he asks.
I shoot him a sharp look. “No, no, no! I don’t have feelings for him,” I insist, shaking my head vigorously.
Chris raises an eyebrow, in disbelief, but he lets it slide. I can’t shake the tension in the air; it feels like the date is going south, and Logan’s presence with another woman only makes it worse.
My heart tightens in my chest, making it impossible to focus on my date.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” I say, getting up and making my way toward the door.
I hurry inside, but just as I reach for the lock, someone pushes the door open. My eyes widen in shock at the sight before me.