Roses are red, violet are blue

Chapter 18: Daisy Daydreams

The shop was quiet again, the only sounds the faint hum of the cooler and the rustle of leaves in the breeze outside. Lila stood at the counter, staring at the empty vase where the tulips had been just moments before. The memory of James and his thoughtful gestures still lingered, leaving her chest heavy with longing.

She turned to the display shelves, searching for something to distract herself. Her eyes landed on a small bundle of daisies resting in a basket. Their bright white petals and sunny yellow centers seemed almost cheerful, an unassuming contrast to the ache in her heart.

The doorbell chimed, jolting her from her thoughts. She turned to see a child, no older than eight, stepping into the shop. Their jacket was slightly too big, and their small hands clutched a crumpled five-dollar bill.

"Hi," the child said, their voice soft but determined. "Do you have daisies? I want to get some for my mom."

Lila's heart softened at the sight of the child and their earnest request. "You've come to the right place," she said, gesturing to the basket of daisies. "Your mom will love them."

The child's face lit up, and they nodded enthusiastically. "She says daisies are her favorite. They make her happy."

Lila reached for the daisies, her hands moving automatically as she began to prepare a small bouquet. The child's words triggered a memory, one that had been tucked away in the corners of her mind.

---

It was a warm summer afternoon, the kind of day made for picnics and daydreams. Lila and James had driven out to a quiet park, armed with a picnic basket and a checkered blanket. The world had felt wide and open, the air filled with the hum of bees and the gentle rustle of leaves.

They had spread the blanket beneath a tall oak tree, the dappled sunlight casting playful patterns on the grass. James had unpacked the basket with a flourish, pulling out sandwiches, fruit, and a bottle of wine.

"Perfect day, don't you think?" he had said, grinning as he handed her a glass.

Lila had nodded, her heart full as she watched him. "Absolutely perfect."

After lunch, they had wandered through the meadow nearby, the grass dotted with wildflowers. James had spotted a patch of daisies and immediately crouched down, plucking one with exaggerated care.

"Lila," he had said, holding the daisy aloft. "I think it's time for the ultimate test."

She had laughed, crossing her arms. "The ultimate test?"

He had nodded solemnly, sitting cross-legged in the grass. "The 'she loves me, she loves me not' test. Prepare yourself for the truth."

He began plucking the petals one by one, his expression exaggeratedly serious as he alternated between "she loves me" and "she loves me not."

By the time he reached the final petal, Lila was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

"She loves me," James had declared triumphantly, holding up the bare stem like a trophy.

"Lucky you," Lila had teased, leaning down to kiss him.

"Lucky me," he had echoed, his voice softer as he looked at her.

They had spent the rest of the afternoon lying in the grass, surrounded by daisies, talking about their dreams for the future. It had been one of those rare, golden days that felt like it would last forever.

---

The memory washed over Lila like a wave, and she blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the bouquet in her hands. The cheerful daisies felt heavier now, each petal a reminder of the love she had lost.

"Are you okay?" the child asked, their small voice cutting through her thoughts.

Lila forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "I'm fine," she said, tying a ribbon around the bouquet. "Here you go. I hope your mom loves them."

The child beamed, taking the daisies with both hands. "Thank you!" they said before turning and running out the door.

As the doorbell chimed behind them, Lila leaned against the counter, her smile fading. The memory of James and the daisies lingered, bringing with it a pang of guilt.

These memories, so full of light and happiness, now felt like burdens. They were beautiful, yes, but they also carried the weight of what she could no longer have. Each one was a reminder of how much her life had changed, of the empty space James had left behind.

She closed her eyes, her fingers brushing against the petals of a daisy still in the basket.

"Why does it feel like this?" she whispered to herself. "Why do the happy memories hurt just as much as the sad ones?"

The shop was silent, offering no answers.

She thought of the child and their bouquet, of how daisies made their mother happy. Lila wondered if she would ever find that kind of joy again—if the simple beauty of a flower could ever feel like enough.

The guilt gnawed at her, a persistent ache in her chest. She wanted to hold onto the memories of James, to cherish the love they had shared. But sometimes, it felt like those memories were too much to bear, like they were pulling her under.

Taking a deep breath, Lila straightened up and wiped her hands on her apron. She couldn't change the past, no matter how much she wished she could. But maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to carry the memories without letting them consume her.

She picked up a daisy from the basket, twirling it between her fingers. Its simplicity was striking, a reminder that beauty didn't have to be complicated.

"She loves me, she loves me not," she murmured to herself, the words a bittersweet echo of James's voice.

She smiled faintly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I loved you," she whispered. "And I still do."

The daisy in her hand seemed to glow in the afternoon light, a small but powerful reminder that love, even when it hurts, is never truly gone.