Chapter 47
Elsie
The next day is more of the same. I don’t hide out in my office or the greenhouse, but I stick to the back counter, assembling bouquets in the smaller space and cashing out customers out of view from the big window.
All the while, Noah casts knowing looks my way.
He’s tried to broach the subject a few times, asking if there’s anything I’d like to talk about, and wondering if I’m really okay.
Apparently, I’m not as subtle as I thought.
Each time, though, I shut his questioning down.
I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to talk to someone about what went down with Declan and I at the wedding, but now that I have an easy segue into it, I can’t bring myself to do it.
Once I speak the words out loud, the spectacular way we crashed and burned – and the fact that it was entirely my fault – becomes real.
I’m not ready for it to be real.
“Got any plans this evening?” Noah asks offhandedly, just before closing time.
“Making tea and doing a puzzle, probably.”
When Noah doesn’t respond, I look up to find him staring at me with a bemused look on his face.
“I’m sorry, are you twenty-seven or eighty-seven?”
“Shut up.” I toss a broken stem at him and it bounces off his forehead and onto the floor. “It helps me relax.”
“And what is it that you need relaxing from?”
I look down, busying myself with the arrangement of peonies and roses I’ve been working on for the last half-hour.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me; arranging bouquets is usually second nature.
Today, none of them are turning out quite right.
It doesn’t matter how many times I rearrange the different hues of pink or add some sprigs of baby’s breath.
“Let me help,” Noah says gently. He rounds the counter and nudges me out of the way. He deftly reworks the arrangement, plucking a few of the blooms out and rearranging others until he’s achieved the look I was going for.
“Showoff,” I mutter, though I can’t help but smile. I knew hiring Noah was the right decision, and he’s done nothing but prove me right time and again. I make a mental note to give him a raise soon.
If he notices I haven’t answered his question, he doesn’t point it out.
Instead, he puts the arrangement in the pink depression glass vase I’d scored thrifting a few weeks ago, adds some water at the small sink in the back of the shop, sprinkles in a bit of our favorite flower food and disappears into the walk-in storage to keep it cool for the night.
The clock on the wall behind the register tells me it’s closing time, so I set to work moving all of the display bouquets and other arrangements into cold storage.
With Noah’s help, it only takes us a few minutes.
I try to ignore the pang of disappointment.
Being here with Declan just on the other side of the wall is torture, but so is going back home to a quiet, empty house.
A place that, for a time, had been filled with laughter, and companionship, and a kind of intimacy I’d never known before.
A sense of home that, for the very first time, I found in another person.
I miss him. It’s not the first time I’ve realized it today, not even close. I know it won’t be the last.
Before I have the chance to pull up a seat and get comfortable at my pity party, I hear the bell over one of the doors ring. Though it’s past closing, I welcome the distraction. I flip the lights off in the storage room and round the corner, putting on my best customer service smile.
“Hi, how may I –”
I stop short when I see the group filing in through the front door. Grace, Olivia, Cam and Ty are here, and judging by the grave looks on their faces, they didn’t stop by for a social visit.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“I called them,” Noah says from beside me. I glance over to see his arms folded across his chest and concern etched into his handsome face. “Well, I texted them, if you want to be specific.”
“Texted them for what?”
“We’re staging an intervention,” Grace declares.
“Noah was concerned about you,” Olivia says a bit more diplomatically. “We’re here to talk and help however we can.”
My eyes narrow on my favorite employee as I remember all the times I spotted him with his phone in his hand over the last two days, tapping away at his screen and looking put out about something. And here I was worried about him.
He shrugs, completely unapologetic.
“Ty and I are here to grab Noah and take him with us, if that’s what you prefer,” Cam says.
“Or we can stay,” Ty adds. There’s a softness in his gaze that I’m not used to seeing. It makes the backs of my eyes sting. “Your call, baby girl.”
“What are the chances I’m going to get out of this?”
“Slim to none,” Cam says cheerfully.
“Zero,” Grace amends.
“Besides,” Olivia says, raising a bag in the air. “We brought food.”
It’s only then that I notice their hands are full of takeout bags and drink carriers.
I spot the logo for my favorite Chinese restaurant, the one Declan ordered from the night we sat on my couch and he opened up to me about his past. A choked sob escapes me and five pairs of wide, panicked eyes exchange concerned looks.
“Fine,” I groan. “Let’s do this.”
“Should we –” Ty begins, and I wave a hand to stop him.
“You guys can stay. What are three more witnesses to my misery?”
“Misery?” Grace demands. “You’re miserable and haven’t said a word to us about it?”
“I was going to,” I mutter, ignoring her accusatory gaze as I lock both doors and turn off the neon pink open sign that hangs in the front window.
Noah directs our friends to put the food and drinks on the big workspace in the middle of the room.
If I had been paying attention, I might have noticed that he had already cleaned the surface of all the clipped stems, fallen petals and various tools that we used throughout the day.
We usually save cleanup for after closing.
While Olivia and Cam unpack the containers of food, Noah and Ty grab extra stools from the greenhouse.
Grace busies herself setting plates, chopsticks and drinks around the table.
It doesn’t escape my notice that she leaves the side facing the shop next door empty.
Even without my saying so, my friends must know that whatever is going on has to do with Declan.
“Sit,” Grace orders me, pulling out a stool on the side of the table that leaves me facing the front of the shop. It’s still early by summertime standards, and though some shops like ours are already closed, the sidewalks are full of tourists bustling past.
I grab the drink in front of my seat and take a sip. Of course, it’s lemonade. My favorite.
Once everyone is seated, we pass the containers around the table and load up our plates. It’s a small reprieve from the reckoning I know is coming.
Sure enough, I’ve just taken my first bite of spicy wonton when Grace begins with, “So. What the fuck is going on?”
“Grace,” Olivia chides.
“What?” She shrugs, nonplussed. “Something is wrong. We can’t help if we don’t know what it is.”
“I assume this has something to do with your almost-boyfriend,” Ty says.
“Why do we assume that?” Cam mumbles around a mouthful of fried rice.
“She hasn’t so much as looked next door in two days,” Noah points out, the traitor. When my eyes narrow on him again, he shakes his head. “Don’t give me that look. I want to help and I needed reinforcements.”
“Talk to us,” Olivia says softly. “We want to help.”
I chew in silence for a few moments. The food from Lucky Dragon is always delicious, but I could be chewing on cardboard for all it matters right now. Nerves have me choking down the rest of my wonton before I answer.
“Declan and I kind of broke up,” I blurt out. Olivia gasps and one of Ty’s chopsticks clatters to the floor. “Or whatever you want to call it,” I hastily add. “We weren’t technically dating to begin with.”
“Don’t give us this technically bullshit,” Grace argues. “Label or not, you guys were headed somewhere serious. It’s okay to be upset over it.”
“I know.” I move some of the noodles around my plate with my chopsticks, though I don’t take a bite. My stomach sours at the thought.
“What happened?” Cam prods. “And when?”
“At your wedding,” I admit.
“At the wedding?” Olivia cries. “How did I miss this?”
I smile across the table at her, or at least I try to; the movement feels foreign on my face right now. “You were a little preoccupied.”
“I’m going to need you to provide some context here,” Grace says. She grabs an egg roll from the container and takes a big bite. “How did you manage to break up without any of us realizing it?”
“Start at the beginning, please,” Noah begs.
So I do. I tell them about my minor freak-out on the dance floor when Declan tried to kiss me, and how I ran off to the bathroom to get my head on straight.
I explain the conversation I overheard with the two women in the bathroom – which is ridiculous, now that I’m retelling it.
I don’t know why it was so triggering to me at the time.
When I get to the part of the story that took place in the chapel, I hesitate.
“What?” Grace demands. “What’s that look on your face?”
I can feel my cheeks heating and I duck, letting my hair fall forward to cover my blush. I’m grateful I didn’t put my hair in my usual braid or ponytail today.
“Elsie June,” Olivia scolds. “What happened next?”
“We had sex in the chapel,” I blurt out.
The stunned silence from all five of them is louder than anything they could have said.
“When you say in the chapel –” Olivia begins, but Grace talks over her.
“Holy fuck, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She rises from her seat and does a slow clap. I bury my face in my hands, wondering where one might find a hole in the ground to disappear into.
“Was it on the altar?” Ty demands. Frankly, he sounds far too excited by the idea.
“No,” I tell him, my voice sounding more defensive than I mean it to. “It was on one of the pews, if you must know.”
“Oh, we must,” Noah says, nudging my shoulder with his.