1. Chester
Chester
PRESENT DAY
P rocessing the morning delivery was my favourite time of day.
There was something about spending the silence of the dawn sorting through beautiful flowers that was truly peaceful.
No one was making any demands of me. No customers.
No other staff. No one bringing me down with snarky comments about how this wasn’t a steady income or a suitable profession for a burly northerner like me.
There was none of that.
It was just me and the flowers.
It was a long way from my life of a few months ago. A life I liked to pretend had never happened.
But pretending didn’t stop it from creeping in when I least expected it. All it took was seeing a car the same colour as his . Or someone his vague height and size.Then everything would start to spiral.
Even fried eggs. It was stupid, but he’d had me make them for him every morning. Now I couldn’t even have eggs in the house. A perfectly healthy food that I used to love, now tainted by memories I couldn’t escape .
You’re okay now. You’re safe. You’re happy.
It was my new mantra. The more I repeated it to myself, the more I believed it.
I hummed as I trimmed the stems before arranging the flowers in various buckets full of water and feed. Taking care not to crowd them, I carefully loaded them into the cooler. We had a busy day ahead, with a wedding and two funerals to prepare for.
People often assumed that arranging flowers for a funeral was depressing.
To me though, it was a way of celebrating life.
I always talked to the family at length, to learn not just their departed one’s favourite flowers and colours, but what made them tick and the idiosyncrasies their loved ones remembered about them.
Then I used that knowledge to create displays that honoured them. Ones the family could have a personal link to. I wasn’t sure I always achieved it, but it gave me a sense of pride unlike anything else.
See, there you go, bigging yourself up. You’re so full of yourself, Chester. They probably despise them. You’re no good at this, just like everything else you’ve ever tried.
I took a steadying breath, pushing his voice from my head. I hated that he still had a hold on me. I fucking hated it.
But he wasn’t here now. He couldn’t hurt me any longer. All I had to do was recover from the wounds he’d already inflicted.
Fuck, how I wished it was as easy as that.
I turned to the funeral arrangements as they needed to be delivered first thing.
Assuming Reid showed up on time, that was.
He was an amazing florist with a knack for arrangements that had customers coming back repeatedly.
His timekeeping though…that left a lot to be desired.
I di dn’t give him shit for it; I wasn’t that kind of boss.
It wasn’t like he did it intentionally—his ADHD meant he didn’t see time the same way as the rest of us.
Unfortunately, it was something that had got him fired from several previous florists.
Not mine though. Here atThistle Do Nicely we were all about second chances. Well, I say ‘we,’ but really it was just me. I was the sole owner—something I still couldn’t quite believe. In the span of just over a year, my entire life had changed for the better.
Before moving to Scotland, I’d been living down in Portsmouth. To say I’d been unhappy there was an understatement. Not because of the area, although Portsmouth had nothing on the Highlands, but because of him.
Matt .
I shut the door on the cooler, closing the thoughts of him inside along with it. Rehashing the past and wondering how the fuck I’d ended up in that situation in the first place wouldn’t get these orders finished.
This shop…this life, it was my second chance. I’d been trapped in a cyclone, with no signs of the storm ever ending. The worst part was that I hadn’t realised it until I’d been freed. Until the clouds had cleared, allowing me to see the truth of what my life had become.
Lonely. Isolated. Miserable. Tormented.
To this day, I didn’t know where I’d found the courage to walk away from Matt.
To pack up my entire life and relocate hundreds of miles away.
To open the business I’d always dreamed of but hadn’t had the funds to invest in.
I’d trained in floristry at college, even working in a few shops in Yorkshire.
I’d dreamed of moving to Scotland eventually.
My parents had lived there in their youth.
My very earliest memories were of them telling me stories about the Highlands.
Using their words to paint a landscape too beautiful to be real.
They were the only type of memories I had of my parents—the early ones.
Those dreams had been put on hold when I met Matt online. He’d convinced me to uproot my whole life and move down south with him. It seemed so romantic at the time. I’d been searching for my person for so long, and there he was. Relocating to be with him seemed like the logical option.
Looking back, I could see how naive I’d been. How desperate I was for the love and affection that Matt seemed to offer. For the relief from the loneliness that had choked me since Gran’s death. The yearning for someone to call my own, for someone to love me.
I’d been so wrong.
Matt hadn’t shown his true colours at first. He was far too cunning for that. No, he’d made sure I was fully isolated from my previous life before manipulating me into the man he wanted me to be.
Matt had never loved me. I knew that now. It didn’t matter that I’d loved him. That I’d given up my life because he’d asked me to. I’d even chosen a boring call centre job over one at a florist because he said it was more suitable. More stable.
I’d been so fucking weak. Six foot three and built like a brick shithouse, and I’d let that man bend and manipulate me as easily as a paper clip.
I thought I’d never break free.
Somehow though, it had happened. One call from a solicitor had changed it all. He’d informed me that I’d been left a large sum of money from a distant uncle calledCal. Along with that, the inheritance included the florist shop, as well as a house on Loch Bunachton.
We’d been eating lunch in a restaurant when I got the call.
Well, Matt had been eating. I’d been pushing salad leaves around on my plate, trying to tune out his snide comments about my size.
Once upon a time, I’d thought my burly figure was something he found attractive. I knew better by that point.
I had no recollection of leaving the restaurant after the call. I was fairly certain I hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to Matt or break up with him first. It was so unlike me. Looking back, I still couldn’t believe I’d done it.
But I had.
Twenty-four hours later, I’d been on my way to Scotland.
It had all happened so fast. A whirlwind, really. And I hadn’t questioned it either. For the first time in my life, I’d just gone with the flow.
Still, there were many things about my inheritance that puzzled me.
For a start, both my parents had been only children.
Cal wasn’t a name I could ever remember being mentioned, not by them or by Gran.
It could’ve been a great-uncle, I supposed—maybe on my Grandad’s side?
Without any living relatives to ask, it was difficult to find out more.
I felt bad for Cal though. I’d never met him, yet he’d single-handedly made all my dreams come true. The thought that he’d died having to leave everything to a stranger, that he didn’t have anyone else in his life…that broke my heart.
It hadn’t escaped me that I was in the same situation.
If I died tomorrow, everything would go to the government.
There was no one for me to leave anything to.
All my family were gone and, thanks to Matt, I wasn’t in contact with any of my old friends.
I had Reid, but he was an employee more than a friend. Although not for his lack of trying.
It was my fault. I couldn’t let anyone close. Not after Matt. Even with how alone I felt, I just couldn’t do it.
I tried not to let it bother me, the loneliness. But there was no denying how it snuck up on me in the quiet moments. How it crept around my throat at night, pulling tight until I choked.
There was nothing I could do about it. What was more, there was nothing I wanted to do.
I’d learned the hard way what happened when you let people close.
They either died or tried to control you.
Being alone sucked, but it was better than the alternatives.
I’d take that every day over losing someone.
Or over losing myself.
The door thudding open announced Reid’s arrival a few seconds before his chirpy voice rang out. “Good morning!”
I grunted in greeting. “Funeral deliveries are ready. Addresses are on the cards. When you’re back, you can make a start on the shopfront displays.”
I winced internally at my tone. I never used to be grumpy. My voice used to be full of life. I used to be funny ; someone people enjoyed being around.
I wasn’t any of those things now. Matt had erased them, leaving just a hollow shell where the real Chester used to exist.
I hadn’t even realised it had happened until after I left. Until I started to interact with people without Matt at my side. Until I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back.
“I had a great night, thanks,” Reid said, as though I hadn’t spoken. As always, he didn’t let my gruffness deter him. “You should really come out in Inverness with me some time.”
“No thanks,” I said shortly. I disappeared to the cooler to select the flowers I needed for the bridal bouquet that was next on my list. I dawdled far longer than necessary, hoping Reid would’ve left in the meantime.
When I could delay no more, I returned to see my luck wasn’t in. Reid was perched on the counter, his legs crossed beneath him. He was eating a Pop-Tart. Not an odd choice for breakfast, but he hadn’t bothered to heat it. No, he was eating it straight from the packet.
I couldn’t stop myself blurting out the question. “Isn’t that better warm?”
“Nah.” He popped another bit in his mouth. “I prefer them frozen.”
“Frozen?” It was worse than I’d thought.
“Yeah.” Reid nodded rapidly as he pointed to something on the packet. “See? You can eat it frozen. It’s on the packaging and everything.”
“But why would you want to?”
“Because it’s fun to try different things.” Reid shrugged. “Otherwise, how do you know if you like something?”
“Well, I’ve never been stabbed, and I’m certain I wouldn’t like that.”
Reid rolled his big blue eyes, just as he did whenever I met him with logic. “Obviously not stuff like that. But trying new foods, meeting new people, going new places…”
I put down the flowers with a sigh. “Reid, I’m not going clubbing with you.”
“Come on,” he whined. “We’d have so much fun. All the twinks would be falling over themselves to land you.”
I caught my thumb on a thorn, wincing at the blood that appeared. Unfortunately, it came with the territory. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to go.”
Reid followed me to the sink as I cleaned the cut and wrapped a plaster around it. “Do you have something against getting laid?”
No. But if I am, a twink is the last person I’m going to go for. My type was more in line with my own build.Bigger would be better.Matt was the smallest guy I’d gone for in a while, but I hadn’t minded, not when what we had was love.
Or, as it turned out, gaslighting and manipulation.
“Is this a professional conversation to be having with your boss?” I said mildly. Not that I really cared—Reid generally knew when to stop pushing.
Generally.
“I’m just saying, if you released some of that sexual tension, maybe you’d be less grumpy.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing that’d help my mood.” I patted Reid on the shoulder. “I’m no fun to be around at work, what makes you think that’d be any different in a club?”
“You are fun,” Reid insisted. I stared blankly at him until he broke with a giggle. “Okay, maybe not fun, but I like you.”
Fear ran through me as I took an instinctive step back.
Reid’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, not like that. No offence, boss, but you’re not my type either. You’re far too nice.”
I swallowed back the relief, ashamed of how I’d reacted. “I thought I was grumpy, not nice.”
“You can be both.” He winked at me before strolling over to the funeral arrangements. “Like how you’re grumpy that I’m late, but too nice to say anything about it.”
“Because you’re good at your job.” I went to help carry them out to the van. “When you’re not nagging me about getting out and being social.”
“I’m just saying, if you don’t try new things, you might be missing out.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t tell Reid that sometimes missing out was better than taking the risk of getting burned. He was only twenty-three; there was a lot of life he hadn’t learned about. Me though…I had a decade on him. A decade that had shown me just how cruel life could be.
So no, I didn’t want to try new things. I had my new life here, my second chance, and that was enough. I was happy just as I was. Here, keeping everyone at arm’s length meant I was safe. Protected. The only person who could hurt me was me.
And I was perfectly fine with that.