“You look well,” he remarked, “and this place is beautiful. Well done, Bo.”
“Thanks,” she said tightly, before gesturing to him. “You look well too.”
“I’ve been travelling.”
“So I heard.”
He looked at her with interest at that. “Did you? I wasn’t sure.”
She stared at him. “Of course I heard. Your, umm, tour.”
“My tour,” he repeated, his tone even, and he looked thoughtful.
She took a deep breath. “You really do look well, Max.” She tried to soften her tone. Anger and annoyance would get her nowhere, and neither would bitterness.Don’t let him see howmuch he hurt you,she lectured herself.Don’t let him see how much his silence stung.
“Thanks,” he said, and for a moment, quiet sitting between them, awkward and heavy. Finally, Bo cleared her throat.
“You said you needed a bouquet?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a little late in the day. I close at seven. I also have a wedding to prep flowers for tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Inexplicably, Max’s face fell. “Right. I just . . .” he paused. “It’s taken me a long time to build up the courage to come in here.”
“Because of me?” she asked, before she shook her head. “That was a silly question. Of course it’s because of me.”
Max nodded slowly.
Bo took a deep breath. “You don’t have to be afraid to come in here. It’s just me, regardless of our history. Still just me.”
“Just you,” Max repeated. He gave a small smile. “That’s good. I’m living locally now, you see.”
Bo’s stomach turned over, and she chewed on her lip. “What? You left Berlin?”
“I did.”
“And you’re living locally? You mean, around here?”
“Yes. I’ve bought a place nearby. I moved in just recently.”
His words played on repeat in Bo’s mind as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “So, we might run into each other then,” she thought out loud. “I’m living in the bedsit above the shop, you know.”
He looked puzzled. “You made enough money from selling your garden to live in a bigger place than that.”
She gave an embarrassed shrug. “You know me. I just need a room and a shower.”
“And a garden,” Max added thoughtfully. “Do you have one here?”
She tried not to let wistfulness steal into her eyes. “No. One day I might buy a place with a garden, but for now, I have my store and all the flowers. That’s enough for the time being.”
“You must miss your summer house,” Max said, and he gazed at her intently. “Do you miss it?”
“Of course I do. But I hear it was sold to someone who wants to make it a family home,” Bo shrugged again. “So, I can’t be sad about that. It would have broken my heart to see developers build flats on it.”
Max smiled. “I know. I think it would’ve broken mine too.”
Again, silence fell between them, and Bo shifted awkwardly. Clearly, Max wasn’t going to mention the daisies or her note, and she was damned if she was going to mention the Jacobien Concerto. If this was a battle of wills, she wanted to win. She had her pride.
