SWNOVELXO Chapter 10: Chaptet 10: A Single Bloom
Chapter 10: A Single Bloom
The day had been long, filled with the steady rhythm of arranging bouquets and tending to customers. Now, as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Lila locked the door of The Petal Whisperer and exhaled deeply. The shop was dark, save for the faint glow of the streetlights outside. She gathered her things and headed home, her heart weighed down but also curiously light—a paradox she hadn't felt in a long time.
When Lila entered her apartment, the familiar stillness greeted her. It was a quiet that had once been comforting but had grown oppressive in James's absence. She set her bag down and glanced at the small table near the window, where the soft golden light of a lamp bathed the room. On the table rested a vase—empty, waiting.
Lila's gaze shifted to the small bundle of violets she had brought home from the shop. Their delicate petals seemed to shimmer in the dim light, a vivid reminder of the conversation she'd shared with Elliot earlier that week. He had spoken about flowers as if they carried whispers of meaning, as if they could bridge gaps where words faltered.
Slowly, she walked to the table and picked up the vase. Its simplicity appealed to her—a clean, clear glass that allowed the beauty of its contents to shine. She filled it with water from the kitchen, her movements deliberate, almost ceremonial.
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As she returned to the table, Lila carefully untied the string around the violets, letting the blooms fall loosely into her hands. Their scent was faint but sweet, and their vibrant purple hues reminded her of resilience. There was something timeless about violets, something that felt both fragile and enduring.
With care, she selected a single bloom. Its petals were perfectly formed, each one curling slightly inward as if holding a secret. She placed it gently into the vase, watching as the stem settled into the water. The flower stood alone, its beauty magnified by the stark simplicity of its setting.
Lila stepped back and looked at the violet, her thoughts turning inward. She had spent so long fighting her grief, trying to overcome it as if it were an enemy to be conquered. But as she gazed at the solitary bloom, she realized that grief wasn't something to defeat. It was a part of her now, woven into the fabric of her being.
Her mind drifted to Elliot's words: "It's okay to feel what you're feeling. You don't have to carry it all alone." He had spoken with such quiet conviction, and for the first time in years, she had felt truly seen. The vulnerability in his voice had mirrored her own, creating a connection that felt as delicate and enduring as the violet before her.
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She sank into the chair by the table, her hands resting on her lap. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside. Lila thought about James, about the life they had planned together. She thought about the wedding they never had, the dreams they had whispered to each other late at night.
But instead of succumbing to the ache that usually accompanied these memories, she found herself reflecting on the love they had shared. It had been real and profound, a gift she had carried even after he was gone. James would have wanted her to live fully, to find joy again, even if it meant letting go of the pain she had held onto so tightly.
Her eyes returned to the violet. Its simplicity spoke volumes—fragile yet steadfast, unassuming yet powerful. It seemed to symbolize everything she was beginning to understand about herself and her journey.
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Lila reached for her journal, a leather-bound book she hadn't opened in months. She flipped to a blank page, the weight of the pen in her hand feeling both foreign and familiar. Slowly, she began to write, her thoughts flowing freely onto the paper.
"James,
Today, I placed a violet in a vase by my bedside. It's a small thing, really, but it feels significant. For so long, I've been trying to push away the grief, to act as if it's something I can leave behind. But I'm starting to see that it's not about leaving it behind—it's about carrying it with me, learning to live with it in a way that doesn't consume me."
She paused, the words on the page blurring slightly as tears welled in her eyes.
"I think about you every day. I always will. But I'm beginning to understand that holding onto the pain doesn't mean I'm holding onto you. You're in the love we shared, in the memories that make me smile even when they make me cry. You're in the lessons you taught me and the strength I've found in your absence."
The tears spilled over, but this time, they didn't feel like a burden. They felt like a release, a cleansing of the sorrow she had carried for too long.