Page 44 of Arianna

These roses are not natural. They don’t exist unless you dip them in gold paint, which is what they did to make them look like this.

Something on the bed catches my eyes, and moving towards it, I see a medium size box and immediately know that iconic robin’s-egg blue hue known worldwide as Tiffany’s blue. How do I know this? Because mother would receive one of every Valentine’s Day or every occasion, father would give her a black eye, which was every day in the Parisi household.

Sitting on the bed, I gently pick up the box while my heart is racing, and my mind goes blank. I am processing all of this at once without much understanding of what is happening inside me. So many emotions hitting me all at once since this morning have made it difficult for me to remain unfeeling. Liar…something inside you changed the moment that man walked towards you so many hours and days ago.

Compartmentalizing that thought for later, I untie the white bow, and a note falls the moment I do. Picking it up, inspecting it, realizing it is the company's usual note when I see writing on the back.

It only takes one to start a winter storm. - Sebastian

What a strange man…

Not understanding the meaning of his note, I open the blue box, and I am left speechless as my heartbeat slows at the sight.

A sparkly diamond necklace with a snowflake pendant.

Growing up, I never thought of the cold as beautiful.

Only sunny days with bright colors and clear skies.

Never the cold. It was always the color gray, rain, and storms.

Nothing to be desired until this.

Until the meaning of this gift.

Snowflakes are cold, and they do start blizzards when they stick together, but they are also… beautiful.

Roaming my finger over the matching earrings, I tear up a bit when I let all the emotions I've been holding back since I met this man and entered his world.

The war is over, Arianna… I replay his words inside my head.

It can’t be.

Could this really be it for me?

A real chance at life?

It still seems like a silly girl’s dream that one day will be ripped from her greedy and naive hands, and I will not survive it.

I won’t.

Placing the box down, I keep his note in one hand when I notice something else on the bed. An opened black box with a single gold rose in it.

Crawling on the bed, I pick it up and notice it is not like all the other gold-painted roses.

No.

This one is rarer.

One of a kind.

A single rose dipped in molten gold.

A literal gold rose.

Holding his note and rose close to my heart, I look around the room, taking in the bouquets, the balloons, and the confetti, and I let myself enjoy the moment.

I don’t know what this all means or what the uncaring man wants, but for this moment in time, I am just a normal girl with a lot of joy in her broken heart.

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