"You two made it," she said, warmth threading through the words."Good.I have three centerpiece options and two bouquet samples, just like we talked about.Been looking forward to this all week."
The front of the shop looked like a wedding had stretched, yawned, and decided to take a leisurely nap on every available surface.Glass vases of varying heights lined the counter in a glittering parade.Buckets of greenery crowded the worn wooden floor, their leaves catching the morning light that filtered through the front windows.A spray of white roses cascaded from a tall stand in the corner, so lush and abundant that it seemed to spill into the room like a frozen waterfall.
The air smelled of cut stems and green things, underlaid with the heady sweetness of lilies and the softer, more delicate perfume of the peonies Sabrina had come to see.It was the kind of smell that made promises, that whispered of celebrations and new chapters.
Sabrina stepped closer to the sample arrangements on the counter, her fingers hovering over petals that looked almost too perfect to touch."Okay," she said, surprised by how steady her voice sounded."Show me."
The florist pointed to the first arrangement, a study in restraint and classic beauty."Option one: classic whites and greens.Very clean lines.Very 'elegant weekend featured in a lifestyle magazine.'The kind of thing that photographs beautifully and never goes out of style."
Bree wrinkled her nose, the expression so familiar it made Sabrina smile."She's marrying a biker who owns a fire extinguisher as a fashion accessory and proposed in a rental cabin.Maybe not the magazine route."
"Option two," the florist continued, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth, "adds blush tones and that soft coral you liked when you came in last month.Still elegant, but more alive.More movement.It breathes a little."
Sabrina's fingers brushed a ruffled petal, feeling the velvet softness of it, the way it yielded under her touch like something living and willing.The coral caught the light in a way that reminded her of sunrise over the water, of the first morning she had woken up in the cottage, knowing she was going to stay.
"I like this one," she said softly.
"Option three is full color," the florist said, gesturing to the third arrangement with obvious pride."In case you decided to abandon restraint entirely and just let joy have its way with the table."
Bree leaned in, studying the riot of blooms with an artist's eye."That one looks like a party exploded.Extremely enthusiastic confetti energy.I respect it deeply."
Sabrina smiled, feeling the expression settle into something genuine."It's beautiful.Really beautiful.But number two feels like us."
"Us as in you and me," Bree asked, "or you and Colby?"
"Both," Sabrina said.She reached out and touched another petal, tracing its curve."You're the blush, all warmth and softness.He's the green, steady, and grounding.And I'm the one making spreadsheets about how all of it fits together."
Bree laughed, the sound bright and clear in the flower-scented air."He's rubbed off on you.A year ago, you would have said you were the wildflowers or the morning light or something poetic.Now you're the spreadsheet."
"Spreadsheets are poetic," Sabrina said."In their own way."
The florist set the bouquet samples on the counter with careful precision, each one positioned to catch the light."These are scaled down for you to actually carry and get a feel for.The real ones will be fuller, more abundant.But try them.See how they sit in your hands.See how they make you feel."
Sabrina picked up the soft coral and white bouquet, wrapping her fingers around the stems, which had been bound with green ribbon.The weight of it surprised her, substantial but not heavy, balanced in a way that felt intentional.The stems fit her hand like they had been measured for her grip, as if the florist had somehow known exactly how her fingers would curve.
Her chest did a strange, full thing, expanding with something that felt dangerously close to tears.
"Too much?"she asked, her voice coming out smaller than she intended.
"Perfect," Bree said, and there was no teasing in her voice now, just warmth."You look like someone who knows exactly what she's doing.Like someone who's ready."
"That's terrifying," Sabrina muttered, but she didn't put the bouquet down.
The bell over the door chimed again.
Sabrina didn't turn right away.She was too busy imagining herself walking down an aisle with this exact weight in her hands, these exact colors catching the light.Colby waiting at the end in that dark shirt she liked, the one that made his eyes look greener.The cabins glinting in the background, their windows catching the afternoon sun, the land she had fought for spreading out behind them like a blessing.
Then a voice she knew far too well slid across the room like oil on water.
"Well.This is cozy."
The bouquet slipped in her grip, her fingers suddenly clumsy.She caught it before it could tumble to the floor, stems pressing into her palm, and turned.
Gavin stood just inside the door, one hand still resting on the brass knob like he owned the moment, as if he had orchestrated this encounter and was waiting to see how his audience would respond.He wore a pressed shirt in a shade of blue she remembered him favoring, an expensive jacket that probably cost more than her first month's insurance premium on the cabins, and the same watch he'd worn when he told her the late fees on Norman House were her fault for not "thinking ahead."
Time had been kind to him in the superficial ways, she noticed with the detached clarity of shock.Same sharp jaw.Same carefully styled hair.Same posture that said he expected rooms to arrange themselves around his convenience.
Her stomach tried to climb into her throat.Her feet stayed exactly where they were.
