Roses are red, violet are blue

Chapter 21: Peony Promises

The shop was quiet again after Clara left, her comforting presence lingering like a faint warmth in the room. Lila stood behind the counter, her fingers lightly brushing over the edge of a display card. The chrysanthemums sat nearby, their delicate blooms glowing softly in the sunlight streaming through the window.

Clara's words echoed in her mind: James wouldn't want you to carry this burden alone.

It was true. James had always been the kind of man who carried the weight for others, lightening their loads without hesitation. But the void he'd left behind was an entirely different kind of weight—one Lila wasn't sure she could share, even with someone as understanding as Clara.

The bell above the door jingled, pulling Lila from her thoughts. A young woman walked in, her cheeks flushed from the brisk morning air. She wore a soft, pastel dress, and her eyes lit up as she scanned the shop.

"Hi!" the woman said, approaching the counter with an eager smile. "I'm looking for peonies—pink ones, if possible. They're for my wedding."

Lila's heart gave a sharp, almost audible twist at the word wedding. She forced a smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Of course. Peonies are a beautiful choice."

The bride-to-be nodded enthusiastically. "I've always loved their softness, and they're supposed to symbolize love and romance, right? It felt perfect for the day."

Love. Romance. Perfection.

Lila swallowed hard as she led the woman toward the cooler where the peonies were stored. Her movements felt mechanical, her smile plastered in place as the bride-to-be marveled over the blooms.

"These are gorgeous," the woman said, running her fingers over the petals of a pale pink peony. "My fiancé loves them too. He's so sweet—he's been so involved in all the planning. I can't wait for you to meet him when he comes to pick up the flowers."

The words stung, each one a reminder of what Lila had lost. Her mind drifted back to a time when she and James were planning their own wedding, their laughter filling the room as they debated everything from table arrangements to the flavor of the cake.

---

"You're serious about peonies?" James had said, his brow furrowed in mock disbelief.

Lila had laughed, swatting his arm. "They're romantic, James! And they'll go perfectly with the color scheme."

James had grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Fine, but only if I get to choose the cake flavor."

"You're going to pick chocolate, aren't you?"

"Of course. It's the superior flavor," he had said with a wink.

Their playful banter had dissolved into laughter, and in that moment, Lila had felt a profound sense of joy. James had a way of making everything seem lighter, easier, even when the stress of planning threatened to overwhelm her.

---

The memory hit her like a wave, and Lila blinked back tears as she returned her focus to the present. The bride-to-be was still talking, her excitement palpable, but Lila's mind was miles away, lost in the past.

"Do you think four arrangements will be enough?" the woman asked, glancing at Lila.

"Four should be perfect," Lila replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside her.

As she wrapped the peonies in soft tissue paper, the woman chatted about her upcoming wedding—the dress, the venue, the small personal touches that would make the day uniquely theirs. Lila nodded in all the right places, but her heart was heavy with jealousy and sorrow.

Why did some people get their happy endings while hers had been ripped away?

The woman's joy was genuine and infectious, and Lila wanted to be happy for her. But the bitterness was there, unbidden and unwelcome, like a shadow she couldn't shake.

When the bride-to-be finally left, clutching her bouquet of peonies with a radiant smile, Lila felt the tension in her body release all at once. She slumped against the counter, her breath shaky.

The shop was quiet again, but the silence felt suffocating. She stared at the door, half expecting James to walk through it with his easy smile and a sarcastic remark about how she always chose the most difficult customers to chat with.

But the door stayed closed, and the realization hit her again: he was never coming back.

Lila walked to the workbench and picked up one of the leftover peonies, cradling it in her hands. The petals were soft, their blush pink hue almost too beautiful to bear. She closed her eyes, letting herself feel the full weight of her emotions.

"I should be happy for her," she whispered to the empty room. "She deserves her happiness. Just like I did."

The words hung in the air, and Lila felt a flicker of anger rise within her. She wasn't angry at the bride-to-be or at James—not really. She was angry at the unfairness of it all, at the way life had stolen him from her without warning.

Her grip on the peony tightened, and a petal fell to the floor, its delicate beauty now marred. She stared at it for a long moment before sinking into the chair behind the counter.

The peony in her hand reminded her of the promises she and James had made to each other—promises of love, of a future together. And now, all that was left were memories and an empty place in her heart that no amount of flowers could fill.

Lila glanced at the clock. It was still early, but she felt drained, as if the weight of the day had already crushed her.

She looked back at the peony, its beauty undiminished despite the missing petal. It was a reminder, she realized, that even in the face of loss, something could still hold onto its beauty.

Maybe her life didn't have the ending she had dreamed of with James, but that didn't mean it was over. She thought about Clara's words, about not carrying the burden alone. Maybe it was time to let herself feel more, to allow others in, even if it meant risking more pain.

Setting the peony back on the counter, Lila stood and walked to the door. She flipped the sign to Closed and stepped outside, letting the crisp air fill her lungs.

For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to hope that someday, the memories of James wouldn't feel like a weight but a gift—a reminder of the love they had shared and the strength he had left her with.

And as she walked back inside, the peonies seemed to glow brighter, as if they too carried the promise of something more.