Roses are red, violet are blue

Chapter 16: Lavender Comfort

The bell above the shop door chimed softly as the man with the violets exited, leaving Lila alone with her thoughts. The faint scent of violets lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the other flowers that filled the shop. She stood behind the counter, her hands gripping its edge as she tried to steady her breathing.

The violets had left her shaken, the memory of James's makeshift garden playing on a loop in her mind. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep reopening these wounds, each flower in her shop acting like a key to the past.

She turned toward the display shelves to busy herself, hoping the simple act of rearranging arrangements would calm her. Her eyes landed on a small bundle of lavender, its soft purple blooms nestled in a wicker basket. The sight of it was unassuming, yet the scent—a gentle, soothing aroma—wafted toward her, unlocking another memory she hadn't revisited in years.

---

It was late autumn, and the nights had grown colder. Lila and James had spent the day tidying up the garden in the backyard, pulling up the last of the summer blooms and planting bulbs for the spring. By the time they finished, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of orange and purple.

"Tea?" James had asked as they stepped back inside, his cheeks pink from the chill.

Lila nodded, pulling off her gloves and shaking the dirt from her hands. "Please. Something warm."

A few minutes later, they were settled on the porch, wrapped in blankets with steaming mugs in their hands. The air smelled of fallen leaves and lavender—the plant James had insisted on growing near the porch because "it's supposed to help with stress."

"It really does smell nice," Lila had admitted, inhaling deeply.

James grinned, holding up his mug. "To stress-free evenings."

She clinked her mug against his, smiling despite herself. They sat in companionable silence, sipping their tea and watching the stars begin to appear in the darkening sky.

"I think this is my favorite part of the day," James said after a while, his voice soft.

"What is?" Lila asked, glancing at him.

"This." He gestured to the porch, the blankets, the steaming mugs. "Just… being here with you. No distractions, no noise. Just us."

Her heart had swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the tea. "I think it's my favorite part too," she admitted.

They had stayed there for hours, talking about everything and nothing, until the cold finally drove them inside. It was one of those nights that didn't seem particularly special at the time, but now, in its absence, it felt like a treasure.

---

The memory faded, leaving Lila standing in her shop, the scent of lavender still in the air. Her hands trembled as she reached for the bundle in the wicker basket, her fingers brushing against the soft blooms.

The memory had been so vivid, so real, that she could almost hear James's voice, feel the weight of the blanket across her shoulders, and taste the tea on her tongue.

Her chest ached with a bittersweet longing. The memory was comforting, a reminder of the quiet, simple moments that had made their love so special. But it also magnified the emptiness of the present, the silence that filled her life now that James was gone.

She carried the lavender to the counter, arranging the stems in a small ceramic vase. The act was methodical, grounding her in the present, but her thoughts remained tethered to the past.

"Just us," James had said that night on the porch.

It had been enough then. More than enough. But now, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The quiet moments she had once cherished now felt heavy with loneliness, the absence of his voice echoing louder than any noise.

The bell above the door chimed again, pulling Lila from her thoughts. She looked up to see a young woman entering the shop, her arms crossed against the chill outside.

"Hi," the woman said, offering a small smile. "I'm looking for something… calming. Maybe lavender?"

Lila nodded, gesturing to the wicker basket. "You're in luck. Lavender is perfect for that."

The woman approached the counter, her eyes scanning the blooms. "It's for my mom," she explained. "She's been really stressed lately, and I thought this might help."

Lila's heart softened at the woman's words. She selected a few stems from the basket, wrapping them in kraft paper and tying them with a delicate ribbon.

"It's a thoughtful gift," Lila said as she handed the bundle to the woman. "Lavender is great for creating a sense of calm."

The woman smiled, her expression grateful. "Thank you. I hope it helps."

After the woman left, Lila stood in the quiet shop, the scent of lavender lingering in the air. She closed her eyes, letting herself breathe it in, the aroma soothing yet tinged with the weight of her memories.

For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to acknowledge the truth: she missed James deeply, but she also missed the version of herself that had existed with him. The Lila who had laughed easily, who had found joy in the simplest moments, who had believed that love could conquer anything.

She opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the lavender in the ceramic vase. It was a small thing, unassuming yet beautiful. Much like the nights she had shared with James on the porch, it was a reminder that life's most precious moments weren't always grand or dramatic. They were quiet, steady, and filled with love.

Lila took a deep breath, letting the memory settle within her like a balm. It still hurt, the ache of his absence ever-present, but the memory of their love remained. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to carry her through another day.