Page 81 of Petals and Plot Twists
A familiar knot tightens in my chest. “He’s there right now,” I say. “Checking things out. It’s supposed to be a really good job. Perfect for him.”
“Hmm,” Mom says. “Well, Charlotte is a lovely city. I’d love to have a reason to visit.”
I scoff. “What do you mean? He’s the one who would be moving, Mom. Not me.”
“Ah, well, either way,” Mom says. “Listen, I really have to go. But let’s have lunch as soon as I’m back in town, all right?”
I wipe at my eyes and sniff one more time. “Okay. I’d like that.”
“You’re not me, Soph,” Mom says. “You’re so much better than me, and you deserve the biggest, brightest, best kind of love.”
I end the call and drop my phone into my lap. Numb. A little shell shocked. But the longer I sit, the more certain I become.
Idodeserve the biggest, brightest, best kind of love. And I know exactly where to find it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sophie
It’s justpast seven when I pound on Willa’s apartment door. My knock is admittedly more forceful than it needs to be, but there arebigthings happening inside my brain, and I really need to talk to someone about it.
She swings the door open, and I barrel into her apartment. “Hi. Are you busy? Am I interrupting? Is Archer here?”
She closes her door and turns. “Not busy. Just making dinner. Archer isn’t here, but he’ll probably show up any minute.”
I follow her into the kitchen. Whatever she’s making smells really good, and it makes my stomach rumble with hunger. I didnotend up eating Thai food with David, and now I suddenly wish I’d at least picked up something to go.
“What’s up?” Willa continues. “Why are you so keyed up?”
I grab a tangerine out of her fruit bowl and start to peel it. “Do you realize we haven’t had a conversation in six entire days?”
Willa looks over her shoulder and shoots me an apologetic smile. “I know. I’ve been so busy with work. I had this huge order come through for a party on Sunday night, and I literally feel like I’ve done nothing but ice cookies. What have I missed? How’s everything with Peter?”
I pop a few segments of tangerine in my mouth and settle myself on one of Willa’s barstools. “Let’s see. Do you want to hear about the amazing kissing first? Or the fact that Peter’s possibly moving to another state? Or should I tell you about the flower blooming for me and another guy?”
Willa slowly turns. “Oh, wow. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
We do, andwe do.I talk until dinner is ready. Until Archer comes in, kisses her hello, takes one look at me, then takes his plate and heads right back out again. I talk right up until Willa sets a plate of teriyaki chicken and rice in front of me and hands me a fork, and I don’t leave anything out.
“How did David take it when you bailed on dinner?” Willa asks. She sits down on the barstool next to mine with her own plate. “Eat,” she says, motioning toward my food. “It’s getting cold.”
I scoop up a forkful of rice. “He seemed disappointed, but he was nice about it,” I say. “I mean, we hardly know each other. It’s not like he really had time to hope for an actual relationship.”
“Yeah, I guess not,” Willa says. “And you feel really good about your decision, yeah?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, you aren’t worried about regretting your decision not to date David.”
I put down my fork. “What are you really asking here?”
“Just let me be pushy for a second, okay? Answer the question. When you think about never seeing David again, about having a relationship with Peter instead, are there any lingering doubts or fears still troubling you?” She scoops up a bite of her food. “Take a minute to think about it. I want a real, honest answer.”
My brow furrows as I take another bite and really consider her question. As much as I worried and questioned before, now, my mind feels calm and clear. Something happened when I talked to my mom. When she used Peter as an example of a positive relationship in my life. Something clicked and shifted, and my perspective completely changed.
“No doubts,” I say. “I don’t want to date anyone else. I don’t want to get to know David. Idowant to be with Peter.”
“And the flower?” Willa asks.
