Page 86 of Tell Me Again

“Sorry, Mel, you’re right. And I’ll—I’ll do my best to stop fucking up. I’m sorry, I—”

There’s a quiet knock at the door, and it inches open, Clara’s kind eyes landing on me as she pokes her head in. There’s something in her expression that I can’t quite place, and she smiles.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Coop, you’ve got a delivery,” she says. She glances at Mel, and her grin widens a little.

“I thought all the deliveries came this morning?” I ask, and I scoot my chair back and stand. “Was there something else not on the list?”

“No,” Clara says. She opens the door all the way and sort of motions to me. “Not that kind of delivery.”

I’m thoroughly confused, and my head and heart are still reeling and torn and broken or whatever the fuck they are. But when Mel gives me a nod, which I suppose means I’m not fired and I don’t have to head home early—yet—I follow Clara out through the kitchen and into the dining room.

“Hey, Coop!”

Kate from the flower shop just a mile or so down the road is standing at the counter, a clipboard in her hand. And next to her, there’s this huge arrangement of what has to be dozens of dark-red roses set in a clear glass vase.

“H-hey, Kate. Um . . .”

Kate’s grinning from ear to ear now, and I hear the kitchen door open behind me, followed by some muffled exclamation of Mel’s. Clara’s still right next to me, and she sets her hand on my arm.

“I’ve got a delivery for you. I just need you to sign here,” Kate says, and she offers me the clipboard, pointing to a line at the bottom of the page. Or something. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on.

Flowers? Not just flowers, though. Red roses. And they’re beautiful. Huge, full blooms, each of them almost identical.

I can’t seem to breathe for a moment.

“Wh-what, uh, what is . . . ?”

“They’re flowers, silly,” Clara whispers, and she squeezes my arm.

“Yeah, I-I know that, but...” I look down at the clipboard that’s somehow now in my hands, and it says my name there.

My chest feels tight.

They’re flowers. Roses. For me. They’re roses for me.

“Who...?” It’s a fucking dumb question. Who else? But my brain can’t seem to wrap around it.

Kate smiles and then turns the vase just a little. There’s a small white card tucked in between two of the blooms. “The card will probably tell you,” she says.

I think I’m shaking, and that makes signing my name just challenging enough to momentarily distract me. When I finish, I hand Kate back the clipboard. Then I step closer and reach out to pick up the card, and everything around me sort of fades into the background.

My name is on the envelope, and I run my fingers over it. His handwriting? God, I wouldn’t even know. I don’t recognize it. But somehow, I do know. It’s like I can feel that he’d held this in his hand not more than, what, four hours ago?

I can’t open it though. Not here. Or, not yet.

I look up, and Kate’s standing there, watching me with a soft smile. Clara’s hand isn’t on my arm anymore, but she’s right next to me, and Mel’s hanging out in the doorway to the kitchen. And when I let my gaze drift around the room, I see the few customers still remaining after the lunch rush all staring at me. All curious and shit.

I blink several times and then take a deep breath, though it doesn’t really steady me like I’d hoped. “Uh, thanks for... this. I’ve gotta get back to work now, but, uh, yeah... thanks, Kate. I appreciate...”

My heart suddenly clenches as I feel an echo of Josh’s touch—his lips on mine, his fingers warm on my cheek, his hand on my chest—and I just can’t wait. I turn around so I’m facing away from everyone and tear open the envelope. The card inside is plain white, like the envelope, but has a watercolor image of a delicate red rose in full bloom on the front.

And a note on the inside.

The handwriting is neat, forming clear words that I read slowly. And then read again.

Coop,

Leaving this morning was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I can’t tell you how much I’m wishing I didn’t have to, how much I’m wishing I could have just stayed. But I hope you believe me when I say it’s a lot. A whole lot.

---