For a month, I convinced myself that Graham was gone for good. That he had made his choice. That whatever we had—whatever almost happened—wasn’t real enough for him to stay.
But now he’s standing right in front of me, like he never left, like he didn’t just disappear without a single word.
I snap out of my shock, my anger rising so fast it nearly chokes me.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is sharp, edged with the hurt I refuse to show.
Graham exhales, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sophie?—”
“You have no business being here.” I step forward, my heart hammering, my fingers tightening around my keys. “You were gone for a month, Graham. A month. No calls. No messages. Nothing.” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “And now you just—what? Show up? Expecting what, exactly?”
He doesn’t flinch, but his jaw tightens. “I know I messed up.”
“Messed up?” I scoff. “Messed up is forgetting a dinner reservation. Messed up is losing track of time. You—” I let out a shaky breath, forcing my voice to stay steady, “you left. Without a word. Without an explanation. And now, I’m supposed to what? Pretend that doesn’t matter?”
“Sophie, I had to go.” His voice is low, pleading. “There were things I had to take care of.”
I shake my head. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know? To hear from you? Anything?”
He takes a step closer, but I immediately take a step back, my fingers tightening around my keys like they might keep me from unraveling.
“I should have called,” he admits. “I should have explained?—”
“Yeah,” I cut in, my chest aching, “you should have.”
The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.
Graham lets out a breath, his shoulders tense. “Just—please. Let me explain.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You think I want to hear your excuses?” I shake my head. “You don’t get to disappear and come back when it’s convenient for you. It doesn’t work that way, Graham.”
His eyes darken, his frustration surfacing, but he doesn’t snap. Instead, he nods slowly, like he’s absorbing every word I just threw at him.
“Okay.” His voice is quiet. “I get it.”
And somehow, that hurts even more.
I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I push past him, my entire body trembling, and walk into the flower shop, determined not to look back.
I’m supposed to help Riley as she stands in front of the mirror, the seamstress adjusting the final touches of her wedding gown.
But all I can think about is him.
His voice. His presence. The way my heart betrayed me the second I saw him again outside the flower shop.
I grip the edge of my chair, forcing myself to stay in the moment.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Riley says, catching my gaze in the mirror. She tilts her head slightly, her brows knitting together. “And since when are you quiet during a dress fitting?”
I swallow hard, trying to conjure up a half-hearted smile. “Just tired, that’s all.”
Riley gives me a look. “Sophie.”
I sigh, my shoulders sagging. There’s no point pretending.
“He came back,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
Riley blinks. “Wait. Graham?”