I’m a fucking masochist.
SIX
SELENE
Aside from spilling words out into an open blank document on my half-broken laptop, only two other things have the power to bring clarity to my mind: yoga and flowers.
Surrounding myself with flowers on a near daily basis for the past several years has forced me to grow an appreciation for the beauty in them and the way they’re nurtured, blossoming from the love and attention they’re given. It’s the way I used to think about love in real life.
Now, I only reserve that sentiment for love stories typed out on blank word documents.
“These bouquets turned out beautiful, Selene,” my best friend and boss, Charleigh, coos beside me.
I’ve been fussing over a bouquet of orchids for the past twenty minutes—a specialty in Charleigh’s flower shop during the colder months.
Charleigh leans forward and brings her nose toward the vase next to mine before she closes her eyes and breathes in.
I feel the corner of my mouth lifting in awe of my best friend and how she never questions the love she has for her work. Opening her eyes, she fingers the petal of the orchid. Ilook back at the mess I’ve been attempting to turn in to something beautiful.
“I think you made me fall in love with orchids even more, and I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Thanks, but I didn’t put that one together. Astrid did.” I nod toward the back, where Charleigh’s newest employee disappeared nearly thirty minutes ago.
Charleigh half turns, glancing over her shoulder.
I stare blankly at the white flower in front of me, running my thumb over its velvety petal.
“Everything okay?” Charleigh’s soft voice filters into my thoughts.
I snap my head in her direction, tucking strands of blonde hair behind my ear as I inhale a deep breath, the weight that’s been sitting in my chest since I slithered into bed last night rising with it. “I’m fine.” I lick my lips, knowing she won’t buy my lie.
It’s an unwritten rule. No one who says they are fine isactuallyfine.
Charleigh scrunches her nose. “Is this about what happened last night with Holt?”
I open my mouth to object but know she’s right. “Holt,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Adam. Me caving to my best friend because she gave me puppy dog eyes and going up on stage for that ridiculous auction. All of it.” I shake my head and give up on the orchid arrangement. After wrapping my hands around the blown-glass vase, I carry it over to the table set along the far wall. Dropping it on the table, I move between the tables and stop behind the checkout counter, to boot up my computer.
“Selene,” Charleigh says, urging me to stop.
My teeth cut into the side of my cheek, and I swear I can still taste Holt on my mouth. Should be impossible considering he didn’t even stick his tongue past my lips.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
I reluctantly shift my gaze toward hers.
She frowns. “I know you have your sister, and Jules, too, but we’ve been close for so many years. How many is it now?” Tilting her head to the flower wallpapered ceiling, she narrows her eyes in concentration.
“Six years,” I answer for her, remembering the day we met.
I’d passed by her store after having the worst last shift of serving at a small pizza place a few blocks over. I was covered in pizza sauce after a co-worker spilled an entire can of sauce on the floor. The tin had bounced off the tiles, sending a splatter of red liquid across my white T-shirt. Once the manager stepped out from his office to see what had happened, my co-worker pointed an accusatory finger in my direction. I didn’t even argue when he’d fired me on the spot, no questions asked. I was tired of working with co-workers who constantly teased me for being too quiet and reserved, anyway.
I’d reeked of garlic and dried pizza sauce when I’d passed Charleigh’s flower shop on my way to the subway station back home. I’d stopped outside and found myself smiling at the flowers displayed in the front windows. Then I’d glanced down at my food-stained T-shirt. I’d never been more certain walking into Charleigh’s shop and asking her for a job was what I was meant to do. At least in the meantime while I’d gained my bearings in the city and figured out how to gain a foothold within the publishing industry.
Temporary. That’s what this job was supposed to be.
Now, six years later, I’m fussing over a bouquet of orchids, with a fully finished manuscript that I’m uncertain I ever want to see the light of day. Self-doubt is a bitch.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Charleigh tilts hers and reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear.
