Roses are red, violet are blue

Chapter 20: Chrysanthemum Reflection

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Lila's living room, casting soft patterns on the wooden floor. She sat at the edge of her couch, sipping a lukewarm cup of tea. Her eyes kept straying to the orchids she had placed on the coffee table the night before. Their soft pink petals seemed less vivid in the daylight, but they still carried the same message James had left her with: strength.

She let out a slow breath, setting the mug down. The ache in her chest felt quieter this morning, not gone but dulled, like a bruise that was beginning to fade. Lila glanced at the clock on the wall—it was almost time to head to the shop. The thought of burying herself in work felt like a small relief.

Grabbing her bag and slipping on her jacket, she opened the door to the crisp morning air. The street was still waking up; a few neighbors waved as they walked their dogs, and the faint hum of cars in the distance created a steady rhythm.

As she rounded the corner on her way to the shop, a familiar voice called out.

"Lila!"

She turned to see Clara, her best friend, standing outside a small café. Clara's auburn hair caught the sunlight, and her warm smile brought a fleeting sense of comfort to Lila's restless heart.

"Morning, Clara," Lila said, managing a faint smile as she approached.

"You look like you could use some caffeine," Clara said, holding up two takeaway cups. "I got you your favorite. Figured I'd catch you on your way to the shop."

Lila hesitated before taking the cup, her fingers brushing against Clara's briefly. The kindness in Clara's eyes made something inside Lila soften, and she realized how much she'd been holding back—how isolated she'd let herself become.

"Thank you," Lila said, her voice quieter than she intended.

Clara studied her for a moment, her smile fading slightly. "You've been working too hard, haven't you?"

Lila shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. The warmth spread through her, but it didn't erase the chill in her chest. "It's easier than... thinking," she admitted.

Clara nodded, her expression understanding but tinged with sadness. "You can't outrun the memories, you know. They'll catch up with you eventually."

The words hung in the air between them, and Lila felt her throat tighten. She glanced down at the coffee cup, avoiding Clara's gaze.

"It's not the memories I'm running from," she said after a moment. "It's the emptiness they leave behind."

Clara reached out, placing a gentle hand on Lila's arm. "You don't have to go through it alone," she said softly. "I'm here. Always."

The sincerity in Clara's voice brought a sting to Lila's eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. She nodded, offering a small smile. "Thanks, Clara. That means a lot."

They stood in silence for a moment, sipping their coffee. Then Clara gestured toward the shop. "Walk you there?"

Lila hesitated but then nodded. The company felt like a small lifeline in the overwhelming sea of her emotions.

---

When they reached the shop, Lila unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping the sign to Open. The familiar scent of flowers greeted her, a mix of roses, lavender, and something else—something bittersweet.

Clara wandered toward a display near the window, her fingers brushing against the petals of a bouquet. "Chrysanthemums," she said, glancing back at Lila. "I always forget how much I love these."

Lila froze at the mention of the word, her chest tightening as a memory surfaced. Chrysanthemums. Loyalty. James.

---

It had been a chilly autumn evening, and they were sitting on the back porch, wrapped in a shared blanket. Lila had been rambling about the upcoming wedding they were planning for a client—a couple who wanted chrysanthemums as the centerpiece of their floral arrangements.

"I've never really thought much about chrysanthemums before," Lila had said, leaning her head against James's shoulder.

"They're beautiful," James had replied, his voice warm and steady. "And they mean loyalty, right?"

"Yeah," Lila had said, smiling. "Perfect for a wedding."

James had turned to her then, his gaze so intense it made her heart skip a beat. "I'll always be loyal to you, Lila," he had said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No matter what. You're my forever."

The words had taken her breath away, and she had laughed softly, more out of nerves than anything else. "You're such a romantic," she had teased.

But James had only smiled, pulling her closer. "I mean it," he said. "I'll always be here for you. Always."

---

The memory hit her like a wave, and Lila gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself. The irony of his words felt like a cruel joke. He had promised her forever, but life had taken him away.

"Lila?" Clara's voice pulled her back to the present.

Lila blinked, realizing her cheeks were wet with tears. She quickly wiped them away, forcing a shaky smile. "Sorry. I just... remembered something."

Clara frowned, stepping closer. "What is it? You can tell me."

Lila hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She wanted to explain, to share the memory, but the pain felt too raw. Instead, she turned toward the display of chrysanthemums, brushing her fingers against their petals.

"James loved these," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said they reminded him of loyalty. He promised me he'd always be there."

Clara's expression softened, her eyes filled with empathy. "Oh, Lila..."

Lila shook her head, swallowing hard. "It's ironic, isn't it? He believed in loyalty, in forever. But forever doesn't exist, does it?"

Clara placed a hand on Lila's shoulder, her grip firm but comforting. "He didn't break his promise, Lila. Life did. And that's not the same thing."

The words struck a chord deep within Lila, and she felt her defenses begin to crumble. She sank onto a stool behind the counter, her hands trembling.

"I miss him so much," she admitted, her voice breaking. "Every day, I wake up, and he's not here. And it feels like... like I'm missing a part of myself."

Clara crouched beside her, her hand still on Lila's shoulder. "You are missing a part of yourself. And it's okay to feel that way. But James wouldn't want you to carry this burden alone. He'd want you to lean on the people who love you."

Lila looked at her friend, the tears spilling over again. For the first time, she let herself believe that maybe Clara was right. Maybe she didn't have to face the emptiness alone.

The chrysanthemums swayed gently in the morning light, their beauty a reminder of loyalty, of promises made and kept, even in the face of loss.

"I think... I think he'd want me to keep going," Lila said softly.

Clara nodded, her smile warm and encouraging. "He absolutely would. And I'll be here to help you, every step of the way."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Lila felt a glimmer of hope. The pain was still there, but it felt a little less heavy with Clara by her side.

And as she stood to face another day in the shop, the chrysanthemums seemed to whisper a quiet promise of their own: loyalty, even in the face of life's greatest challenges.