Christ. Perhaps it’s a good thing I never gave my roses to her.
“The last one hung in my wardrobe,” she adds with a note of disgust.
“That wouldn’t leave much room for clothes,” I remark.
“No. It didn’t. It looked like a dead bat hanging there.”
“Is it still there?”
“God, no. I threw it in the bin. And good riddance.”
“Yes. I daresay, it can be unhelpful—perhaps even harmful—to hold onto too much of the past. Especially the bad bits.”
She hums her agreement. “And what bits are you hanging on to?”
A faint smile tugs at my mouth. “I’m not sure yet. But when I figure it out, I promise to put it in the nearest rubbish bin.”
“Okay.” She grins, then she sobers, smoothing her red skirt. “So…I’m guessing I probably shouldn’t wear this to your barbecue tomorrow?”
“Actually, I quite like your red dress.”
“Thanks,” she says shyly. “But I can’t wear it back-to-back.”
“Why not?”
“The washing machine hates me, for starters.”
“I’ll get a new one.”
“I’m joking.”
“I’m not.” If it’s too much, I don’t care. My heart is on a knife’s edge. “When we go home, I’ll make sure it behaves.”
Her head dips, laughter spilling softly. “Alright. I’ll wear it tomorrow.”
“Good.”
She studies me, her expression soft. Something in me lifts.
“You’ve got your colour back,” she says gently. “Feeling better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
My chest aches as the moment fades, fragile and stolen.
At the door, Lily-Anne pauses, hand resting on the frame. “Oh, by the way,” she says. “About the red roses…I’m sure Ellenor would have been happy with any colour. I know she seems fussy, but she’s actually really gracious. You probably already know that.”
The only thing I want is to know what colour she’d prefer.
As we leave, I notice she’s left the rose Jack gave her on the polished timber floor.
We begin retracing our steps toward the cellar when, suddenly, a voice rings out from the corridor ahead.
A woman’s voice—brisk, clipped, authoritative—punctuated by the sharp click of heels on timber.
She rounds the corner mid-sentence, attention fixed on her phone as she speaks into it.
There’s no time to think.
