Chapter Twenty-Four

AMIRA

“P icking up this shift was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

Even as I say the words, feeling as groggy as I do, I know they aren’t the truth. The biggest mistake I ever made was asking Noah to be my date all those months ago. I’d practically begged him and look where we ended up.

Once the tears started flowing, I couldn’t do anything to stop them. Noah’s caring but overbearing instincts did nothing to help. If anything they made it worse, but I don’t hold that against him. Any guy worth the shirt on his back would do what he could to support his crying date. Even if she had just broken his heart.

Because I have no doubt that’s what happened. I saw the crack forming through the back of his eyes. The way his mouth pressed into a thin line to stop his lip from trembling. The way his hands shook until he clenched them by his sides.

While he drove us home, the air was so thick it hurt to breathe. Ella didn’t seem to care that our plans to go out had been thwarted, and her happy chirps from the back seat did nothing to distract me from the sheer hurt I know I caused. She bounded ahead of us after Noah parked, leaving us to trudge up the stairs side by side. Her door was already closed when we entered the apartment, and we stood awkwardly in the hall when we realised that even after everything I said, we were still about to share a bed. It was about as real couple-y as it gets.

I could have asked Noah to leave, and if I had he would have gone without a second breath. But I couldn’t. Even now I’m telling myself it’s because it was late and he deserved his rest, but deep down in the trenches of my soul I know it’s just because I wanted to sleep next to him one more time.

And besides, even though Ella knows the truth about our relationship, I’m not ready to explain to her why he’s not staying anymore.

Instead, I made plans to be out of the house as early as humanly possible today. Cassidy’s sister was meant to be working the coffee cart this morning, but with the early summer heat and her pregnancy progressing, she’s eager to skip as many days as Cassidy and I can afford to have her missing. A fact I took full advantage of when I messaged to ask if she wanted the morning off.

I’m glad to be out of the house, away from Ella’s all-knowing looks and Noah’s undoubtable sorrow, but man I’m tired.

Cassidy is dragging buckets of flowers through the back when I turn the coffee machine on with a yawn.

“Why did you do it then?” She grunts as she lifts an overflowing bucket off the cart and onto one of the low-lying tables by the entrance. Musky green dollar gum leaves tickle against her arms and chin as she does, but the eucalyptus scent spreads through the room and clears my nose. Breathing comes a little easier and I’ll take that win even though I know it’s only temporary.

“I needed to get out of the house.” I tie my apron around my waist and check the small bar fridge is stocked with enough milk for the Sunday morning rush. “You want coffee? Iced?”

Cassidy moves onto the rest of the buckets, arranging the bulk native flowers on the table with an artistic flair only she has. There’s no doubt she was made to do this, and although her sister and I are getting better at the floristry side of the business, it’s clear to anyone who walks in if Cassidy has set out the flowers.

“Please,” she says as she stands back to admire her work. The flowers aren’t even sectioned into bouquets yet, but she’s placed them on the table in a way that has each flower complementing those near it. It looks beautiful.

I make our drinks while she fetches another cart full of flowers from the back. These ones are brighter, roses and carnations in just about every colour of the rainbow, and she gets to work scattering them through the gaps around the tables.

“Is Ella that bad to live with?” she calls over her shoulder as she works.

I use the loud grinding of the coffee machine brewing to stall, but when it quietens, I look up to find Cassidy standing right in front of me. Her hands are on her hips and she has her head cocked as she waits for my response.

“It’s not Ella,” I mumble as I pass her one of the drinks.

She takes a sip, mouthing a thanks before taking a long sip through the metal straw in her cup. “Did your parents send someone else to stay?”

I grab my own drink and move out from behind the cart to rest against one of the tables. I have to move a bucket back to make room, and Cassidy scowls at me.

“I’ll put it back,” I say as I stretch my feet out. Ice chinks together as I swirl my iced latte around before having a drink. “I did.”

Cassidy stares at me blankly. Her low ponytail of long chocolate hair flicks over her shoulder. “You did what?”

“I invited someone else to stay.” I’m waiting for her to respond when I realise I just need to finish the damn story. I suck in a deep breath, have another drink, and tell her everything.

As the story unfolds, guilt trickles down my back. Her face remains unmoving, but her head ticks as she processes the information, ponytail flicking back and forth. Cassidy and I are best friends, I should have told her sooner. But all the puzzle pieces of her life are falling into place, and I didn’t want to throw my issues out into the open like that. Not seeing her every day only made it harder. We vowed when she moved out we would stay just as close, but our shifts rarely align now the boutique is getting busier.

While I wait for her to respond, I promise myself I’ll be a better friend.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I blurt out when her silence has dragged on for longer than I’m comfortable with. It was only a few seconds, but I need her to say something. Anything.

Hell, I’ll take her having a go at me for using her cousin over this awkward stare.

“And so, this wedding last night,” she finally says as she swirls the melting ice around her cup. “You went as a real couple, but left …”

“Back as a fake one. Yeah.” My body slumps down with a sigh. “I know he’s your cousin, but I really like him. Like, more than I’ve ever liked anyone. More than I thought I ever would. It’s making me sweat because I can’t help wondering if I only feel this way because of my father. When I heard them talking, I panicked and sent us back about ten steps.”

“Are you scared because of your feelings or because of Noah’s?”

Cassidy hoists a bucket off the table to sit next to me. We should open the store soon, but through the windows the main shopping strip is still quiet.

“Because of me,” I admit. “Noah’s been nothing but genuine and respectful. I know how he feels, I know what he wants. I just don’t know if I can give it to him.”

Wrapping her arm around me, Cassidy pulls me into a hug. The kind that warms me from the inside but doesn’t feel stuffy despite the muggy December weather. I’ve always felt better in her arms. We share a platonic love I always thought would never be beat but sitting here in her embrace there’s a new thought niggling in the back of my mind. Noah’s hugs are better.

“I’m worried that one day, when the show is over and my family stops caring so much about my relationship status, I’ll look back and wonder if they were the only reason Noah and I are together. What if the story we told is the glue holding us together? What if we crumble to pieces? I know what I feel isn’t fake, but what if it’s just … circumstantial?”

“How do you feel when Noah’s not around? Like, right now?”

“I miss him.” The words surprise me. Judging by the way Cassidy rears back, dropping her hands to my forearms, they surprise her, too. Her eyebrows are closer to her hairline than I’ve ever seen them.

“How crucial is it for the two of you to live together now? You said Ella knows what’s going on?”

“She does. I should have known she would figure it out.” I finish my coffee, slurping the dregs of liquid between the remaining ice, and stand. “We should open the store.”

“I’ll get it,” Cassidy says, handing me her own empty cup.

While she unlocks the front door, I take the dishes to the back and drop them in the industrial dishwasher. I adjust the settings on the air conditioner in an attempt to combat the humidity seeping in through the now open door.

No rush of customers streams in, so Cassidy begins picking dead leaves from flowers while I tidy the shelves under the coffee cart. We work in tandem, the way we have so many times before, but there’s an added bite to the silence in the air. Neither of us turned the radio on, which doesn’t help, but we both know we left the conversation unfinished.

I love that Cassidy is giving me time to process though.

Before I have a chance to restart the conversation, two of our regular customers stop in for their weekly coffee and flowers. I make their drinks while Cassidy helps them choose their blooms, and we make small talk. You’d never know Cassidy and I were halfway through a serious conversation. You’d never know my heart is breaking from the inside out.

My head is ducked under the cart, counting how many take-away cups I have and calculating if I should go get more from the storeroom, when Cassidy leans over the counter to rest a hand on my shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she says slowly as I stand. “But I don’t know if you’ll like it. Noah will hate it.”

“Why will Noah hate it?”

Holding her hands in front of her stomach, Cassidy fiddles with the ring on her thumb. “Because he has been quietly obsessed with you for years. Whatever is growing between the two of you, he is ready for it and won’t want to slow it down.”

Noah said as much, but there’s something about hearing it from another person that makes the point hit home a little harder. A lot harder. Did everyone know about his crush on me? Was I so blind to it for years purely because I was so caught up with going against what my father wanted for me?

“What’s your idea?” I lean my hip on the side of the cart, folding my arms across my chest. Maybe if I hold enough pressure there, my heart will stop doing backflips.

“I think Noah needs to move out.”

My mouth opens, ready to rebut, but nothing comes out. Because she’s right.

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