Chapter 21
Kaden
Hope scans the plant section with a look of determination on her face, her small, delicate hands curled firmly around the trolley handle like she’s a woman on a mission.
And technically, she is. Today, she’s joined me at the Home and Garden Centre, helping me pick out a few indoor plants for my apartment, an invitation I’d extended on a whim while we were at the farmer’s market yesterday.
The intensity in her gaze as she examines each plant tells me just how seriously she takes plant shopping—how much care and thought she pours into it without even realising.
Whereas me, I would’ve simply grabbed the most appealing one, paid little mind to the time and effort it actually takes to care for it, and called it a day.
We decided to grab two trolleys—one for the smaller plants and another for the larger ones that would sit on the floor of my apartment. And since I’m fully expecting to leave with half the nursery, thanks to one very enthusiastic plant lady, I brought Jason’s truck along to haul them all home.
“This one’s called a snake plant, and it’s great for beginners like you,” she explains, holding out a small, spiky plant thingy with odd patterns, its pointed leaves sharp enough to take out an eye.
“It only needs watering when the soil is dry, and it’s remarkably resilient,” she adds. “My mother keeps one in her bathroom, and she’s the most forgetful person I know. She’ll go weeks, sometimes months, without watering it, and it still survives.”
“Sounds great to me. Sold.”
She smiles and carefully sets the plant into her trolley, making sure it’s securely in place and won’t topple over as we move on to the next shelf.
She continues her perusal while I hang back, watching her do her thing. I feel completely useless just standing here, like I should be helping her in some way, but have no idea how. Yet it’s clear this is something that brings her a lot of joy.
If I wasn’t aware she was going through a heartbreak, I would’ve never been able to tell, not when she looks so completely happy and at ease in this moment.
I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that she’s right here, in front of me, after thinking I’d never see or hear from her again. Ever since she walked away from me at the food court that day, I haven’t stopped wondering how she’s been.
There were countless times I wanted to pick up the phone just to check in, to see if she was okay.
But I told myself it wasn’t my place. I had no right to know.
For all I knew, she could have tossed the evidence away and carried on with her life as if she’d never just been handed the worst news of her life.
Hope stops in front of two identical plants—one green, the other black. She scoops them both up, cradling them in her arms like tiny babies, then turns to face me.
“This is one of my absolute favourites because they’re practically indestructible.
I actually picked up the black one at the farmer’s market yesterday, if you noticed.
I left my other ones back in Sandy Vale, so I had to get a new one.
They’re called ZZ plants, and you only need to water them about once every three weeks.
They thrive in low light, and if you happen to forget to water them for a while, they’re probably one of the most forgiving plants you’ll ever own. ”
“Is there a difference between the two?”
“Just their colour. One’s a vibrant lime green, and the other has a more burnt, darker shade. The care for either of them is exactly the same,” she explains, then lifts the black one. “They usually refer to this one as the ‘Raven ZZ plant’, obviously because of its dark foliage.”
“I’ll take them both—y’know, for added variety.” I give her a wink.
She snorts and shakes her head, and I can’t help but smile at how utterly adorable it is.
“You know a great deal about plants. Do you work with them?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Oh, I wish. They’re just something I’ve always loved, ever since I was a little girl, right after my family and I took a trip to Hawaii.
We had stumbled upon these streets that were filled with frangipani trees, and I remember being completely captivated by them.
But no, I don’t work with them. I’m a nurse. What about you? What do you do?”
She keeps her gaze on me as she sets both of the plants gently in the trolley.
“I’m an operations manager for a car rental company. It’s not as exciting as it sounds, and it’s certainly not as rewarding as being nurse.”
“I’m sure you’re great at what you do either way.”
“I try. But lately, I haven’t been as focused, and more often than not, I can feel the passion for the job slowly dwindling away.”
“Perhaps you’re not being challenged enough.”
“Maybe… or it’s just that I’m starting to lose interest.”
“I get that. Sometimes I wish I could just spend every day in a garden or greenhouse, tending to plants all day long.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I have bills to pay, that’s why.”
“Of course. Can’t have you slacking on your adult responsibilities, now, can we?”
She lets out a soft, airy laugh, and for a fleeting moment, I’m mesmerised by her warm, comforting smile and the sparkle in her vivid blue eyes.
Hope is slightly taller and curvier than the women I’ve been with in the past. And while I’ve usually been attracted to brunettes, her long, vibrant red hair always seems to catch my eye.
She’s beautiful in that ethereal way, like a siren or an angel in a fantasy movie.
And with every encounter, I find myself increasingly drawn to her.
“Alright, enough chit-chat,” she orders, instantly snapping me out of the spell she seems to have me under. “We need to find you more plants.”
What the hell is wrong with me? She just got divorced from her ex-husband, and here I am, gawking at her like some smitten teenage boy who just reached puberty. Get a hold of yourself, dickhead! You’re the last person she needs to be involved with.
“You’re the boss,” I mutter, pushing my thoughts as far back as I can and follow her into the next aisle.
For the next twenty minutes, we move through each section, carefully examining and selecting different plants. In the end, we grab six in total—four smaller ones and two large floor plants, which she identifies as a fiddleleaf fig and a parlor palm, promising me that the latter is ‘very easygoing.’
I pay for the items at the register, and within minutes, we have them loaded into the back of Jason’s truck.
“Thank you, Hope. For all your help. You’ve probably saved a few innocent plants from a tragic fate.”
She chuckles softly. “It was my pleasure, Kaden. I made sure to pick the ones that could survive your… eventual neglect.”
“I promise to give them all the TLC I can provide.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Treat them like they’re your own children. They need more than just water to survive, they also need to thrive.”
“Duly noted. Where do you think would be the best place to put them?”
“Well, I’d need to see the space first. Otherwise, I can only make a few rough suggestions.”
“Would you like to?”
“Make a few rough suggestions?”
I shake my head slowly. “See the space?”
She opens her mouth to speak but hesitates. I can tell a hundred different scenarios are running through her head about how this might play out. So, I spare her the worry.
“Only if you’re comfortable, there’s absolutely no pressure. You’ve already helped more than enough. I just thought it’d be good to get someone else’s opinion. Someone with a keen eye and a real interest in this stuff. As I said before, I’m totally clueless.”
She glances at the plants now on the back of the truck, while she thinks over my request. After a long pause, she looks up, our eyes locking once more.
“Okay. I can help, but I can’t stay for long. I’ve got to pick up my son from his uncle’s place in an hour.”
“We’ll be quick as a flash.”
“Alright...I’ll follow you.”
“Too easy.”
We finally part ways, each of us slipping into our own cars.
I wait until she’s settled in behind the wheel and starts the engine before starting mine.
Minutes later, we’re out of the carpark and onto the road, my eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror every now and then, just to make sure I haven’t lost sight of her.
As I lead us back to my apartment, I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this kind of excitement, and all we did was go plant shopping.
I don’t know what it is about Hope that makes me feel so grounded, but one thing’s for sure: I’m not about to mess this up.
A yellow-gold Jeep pulls into the guest parking of my apartment complex six minutes after parking my car in the basement.
Hope climbs out of the driver’s seat a moment later, adjusting the belt at the waist of her long grey coat.
Her silky auburn hair lifts slightly in the early spring air as she hooks her tote over the crook of her elbow and locks the car door.
She doesn’t meet my gaze at first, even though I’m standing directly across from her. Instead, her eyes drifts to the four-storey building with quiet curiosity, then sweeps over the surrounding gardens and the street beyond. Only then does she finally look at me.
“Welcome to my neighbourhood,” I say, tucking my hands into the pockets of my jeans, suddenly unsure of what to do with them.
I don’t know why I seem to turn into a nervous idiot around her. I’m never usually like this. I’ve always been confident around women—sometimes a little too confident, but Hope has a way of making me feel shy without even trying.
“It’s really nice,” she states, glancing around once again. “Quieter than I expected for a street filled with nothing but apartment buildings.”
“Where I’m located is right on the cusp of this suburb and the next, so we’re a little further away from the main roads and shopping centre. It’s why I chose this particular building, for the peace and quiet.”
“You chose well, Mr. Grant.”