Page 111 of Pansies

“Oh, yes.” Fen yawned. “That’d be nice.”

He was adorably asleep about ten minutes later. But Alfie kept his playlist going anyway—a piece of Fen to keep him company on the way back home. He’d been expecting musicals, but apparently Fen also liked what Alfie privately thought of as “sad woman music.” It wasn’t what he would have chosen to listen to, but it was kind of nice anyway—though he wasn’t entirely sure what was supposed to be so upsetting. Wearing your partner’s favourite sundress was a good thing, wasn’t it?

Fen didn’t even stir when they pulled up outside Pansies. He did a bit when Alfie tugged the front door key out of his pocket and lifted him up. But then he just slid an arm around Alfie’s neck, curled into him, and went straight back to sleep. Let Alfie carry him into Pansies like a new bride.

19

Next morning, he was woken up by a flail and a shriek. He rolled over to discover a very tousled Fen sitting up in bed.

“Oh my God, what time is it?”

He groped for his phone. Squinted at the little green numbers. “Uh, nearly eight?”

“Fuck. The shop. Why didn’t you… You should have—” Fen slipped out of bed, pale and lean and lovely in the early-morning light. “I mean, it’s not your fault. But fuck.”

“You needed the sleep. We didn’t get back till three or summin.”

Fen was wrestling with his clothes, hopping absurdly on one foot as he tried to get his jeans on at the same time as his T-shirt. “Yes, but I have things I have to do. You know I can’t afford to…to…”

“Sleep?”

“Yes. I mean. No. I mean. Fuck.” Fen emerged from his T-shirt. He was glaring. “Look, you made things pretty clear last night. I know what you want, but I’m not giving up on Pansies for you.”

“Wow, no.”

But Alfie wasn’t even sure Fen heard him—he was already disappearing down the hall. Alfie rolled out of bed, scrambled for his clothes, and followed.

Fen was in the back room, dragging flowers out of cold storage. He glanced up only briefly. “I don’t have time right now.”

“I want to help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Alfie sighed. “Yeah, you do.”

“We’ve had this conversation.” Fen’s eyes flashed at him behind the heavy black frames of his glasses. “I know having you boss me around is cute sometimes, but respect a fucking boundary, okay?”

“I would if…” Wait, no. That sounded bad. Why did everything always sound bad when you needed it not to?

“If what?”

He tried again. “Fen, I…y’know…I…criedin front of you last night. I fucking cried. And you told me it was okay, and I believed you.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, I don’t get how it’s okay for me to do that but it’s not okay for me to help you.”

Alfie thought it was a pretty decent argument. Except he hadn’t quite expected Fen to suddenly look so…squashed. Or to go sliding to his knees among the flowers. Which, in a different context, would have been just about the prettiest thing Alfie had ever seen.

Fen blinked up at him, his eyes intensely green in the middle of all that colour. “I’m fucking everything up, Alfie. You had it right yesterday. I don’t want to run a flower shop. I don’t know how. I’m so far in debt, and all I do is lose money.”

“We can fix this.” Alfie dropped to his haunches. Reached for Fen’s hand. “I know it probably seems impossible, but I promise…money’s easy. It’s just numbers.”

“That’s the thing, though. Part of me doesn’t want it fixed. Part of me just wants it to be over so I can get on with my life.”

“Well, you don’t have to run it into the ground. We could close in a controlled and careful way. Take care of the assets and all that.”

Fen’s hands clenched into fists. “I know, I know. But it feels…really bad, throwing away my mother’s legacy. Whereas just losing it because I’m crap feels bad in a more bearable way. It’s not sensible. I can’t explain it.”

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