“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” The salty scent of tears urges me to come and stand beside her, trying to offer comfort. Patricia dashes away the wetness in her eyes.
“How did you go on without him?” I ask, clearing my throat when it gets too scratchy.
“It took a long time before I could even think of him without crying.” With a soft laugh, she motions to her teary eyes. “I still do, sometimes. But eventually, the pain lost its edge, and I can remember all the wonderful times we shared.”
I rub my chest. “It hasn’t faded, not for me.”
“It takes as long as it takes. Everyone grieves differently. That pain is proof that we loved and were loved. Imagine if we felt nothing at all? How terrible would that be?”
Blinking fast, I turn away and thumb the corner of my eye. “I wouldn’t mind feeling nothing,” I admit.
“I know. I grieved him for many years until one day, I met Agatha.” She laughs softly. “I was surprised that I was ready to open my heart to anyone, most of all another woman.”
I look at her in shock. “And you moved on? Like that?”
“I was as shocked as you are, dear. I was lonely, and I still had love left to give.”
I shake my head. “But weren’t you guilt-ridden? Didn’t you worry you were betraying Frank’s memory?”
Patricia nods. “I was so torn up about it, I visited his grave and asked him if he would be all right if I chose to love again. I told him no one would replace him in my heart, but that I could hold space for his love and a new one. Loving someone new doesn’t mean forgetting what you shared with another. I’m able to love Agatha as fully as I can because my Frank taught me how.”
I marvel at her ability to move on with someone new, never forgetting her old love, but unafraid to embrace a new one. I could never be that strong.
“Here you are, dear.” Patricia holds out a beautiful arrangement of roses, bright red against bursts of greenery and white flowers. “Calla lilies and roses.”
A smile curls my lips. “It’s beautiful.”
She flushes with pride. “A gift. Let me know if you’d like any changes, and we’ll use this design for your wedding.”
“Thank you.” My chest tightens, and I lower my gaze to the flowers.
Don’t forget about me…Leif’s voice rings through my mind, and I close my eyes against the sudden surge of grief.
Patricia touches my shoulder, her hand warm and gentle. “I know, dear. Love and loss, they’re a lot like flowers, I think. Love comes and goes, much like flowers wilt and die. But there will come a day when they bloom again.”
I wipe my eyes and clear my throat. “I know, I… It must be wedding nerves.”
“Of course, dear. You focus on taking care of yourself. And don’t be afraid to lean on Arlo if you need to. I’m sure he’d understand.”
With the flowers in my arms, I leave the greenhouse behind.
Is it possible that I can keep Leif in my heart and accept my feelings for Arlo?
No.No.I made a promise to Leif to never forget him. I won’t break it.
Even if kissing Arlo felt like the first deep breath I’d taken in years.
“Those flowers Nan put together are beautiful,” Arlo says. “Do you like them?”
I like the way Arlo looks after he has had a shower. His hair shines like polished gold, and there’s a dewy glow to his skin that makes it look soft. The citrus scent of the soap only complements his natural scent.
“They’re beautiful,” I reply.
Arlo glances my way before I can look out the car’s window. A smile lifts his lips, eyes dancing with heat. “Then if you’re happy with them, let’s have Nan make some more for the wedding. Oh! Speaking of which, what should we tell your brothers? They’ll surely want to know when we’re tying the knot.”
I pause as it hits me that the sooner we wed, the sooner all this pretending will be over. There will no longer be any excuses to see Arlo every day. He’ll get to make his potion, and I’ll keep my sanity without needing to take a mate.
“Sooner rather than later.”
