Page 78 of Something Blue

It’s dark and quiet while I walk around my father’s house. Thinking, trying to work out what I want, trying to figure out how to heal my heart.

I walk until around five in the morning and then curl up on the sofa downstairs, falling asleep again.

A loud knock on the door wakes me up with a fright.

I sit up, bolt straight, my heart beating wildly.

The person knocks again, and I rush over to see who it is while I take my fingers through my hair to tame it.

Opening the door I glance up and down, taking in the sight of a delivery man holding a giant bunch of flowers and a big box.

“Are you - uh - Mrs. Vece?” he asks, looking at his phone, trying to balance everything.

Mrs. Vece.I belong to him.

I take a deep breath. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Here you go.” He says, handing me the flowers. “Where can I put this?” he gestures to the box. “It’s heavy.”

I lead him into the foyer, and he sets it down on the entrance table then nods and leaves.

I am not opening that box. It’s from Celso.

I hear Luke coming down the stairs, he’s on the phone having a heated discussion with one of his campaign managers. “If he pulls funding, we’re fucked. Listen - we need to fish around—” I sigh, turning my attention back to the box.

Fine. I’ll open it. But first I’ll put these flowers in a vase. There is no point in their beauty going to waste because I’m angry with the man who sent them.

I brush my fingers over the delicate petals of blue, pink and yellow.

The scent of sweet pollen fills the air.

My heart aches.

I fight tears.

When the flowers are soaking in a vase on the coffee table in the living room, I go back to pick up the box and carry it up to my bedroom. It’s not that heavy.

Luke is on another call. He’s stressing and pacing around the house. I can’t stand it. He didn’t even glance at me or say good morning. His only focus is the campaign, and his only worry is that Celso will pull funding.

In my room my phone light is blinking to tell me I have unread messages.

I set the box on my bed and read through Celso’s messages.

One after another. He tells me I’m beautiful. He tells me I’m perfect. He tells me he wants nothing more than for me to be happy - no matter what that means.

My heart breaks over and over again as I read his words because he is the person who made me happier than I have ever been. He is the person who I want to be with - I don’t know how.

I set my phone aside, not replying.

In the box I find jewelry, chocolates, clothing, shoes.

I sigh, closing the lid again.

I wish I knew what to do.

If it were up to me - I would force my heart to forgive him. I would give him another chance. But what risk would that involve? It seems like the worst choice to make.

But how can I go through my life without at least taking that risk?

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