Roses are red, violet are blue

Chapter 25: Carnation Colors

The morning sun spilled through the large windows of Lila's flower shop, casting streaks of light onto the petals of the bouquets she had been arranging. Today, the shop felt unusually quiet, save for the soft hum of classical music playing from the old radio in the corner. Her hands brushed over a bouquet of carnations, their vibrant hues of pink, red, and white awakening a flood of memories that caught her off guard.

James had loved carnations. He used to surprise her with them on the most random days, claiming the world didn't need a special occasion to celebrate her. She could almost hear his voice in her mind as she arranged the delicate flowers into their vase.

"Each one carries a message," he had said once, handing her a rainbow-colored bouquet. "Pink for admiration, red for love, and white for pure intentions. I thought you deserved all three."

Her chest tightened at the thought, a bittersweet ache she had grown accustomed to. Back then, those vibrant carnations were symbols of their happiness and James's thoughtful nature. But now, they felt heavy, weighed down by the absence of the man who once made her life so colorful.

Lila placed the bouquet on the counter, her fingers lingering on the soft petals. Guilt swelled in her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. Why did she allow herself to let these once joyful memories become tainted by grief? Wasn't she supposed to cherish them, to find comfort in them? But every time she tried, the emptiness returned, reminding her of all the things she had lost.

The bell above the shop's door jingled, snapping her out of her thoughts. Lila looked up to see Clara bursting in, her energy filling the quiet space like a gust of wind. Her best friend's face was flushed with excitement, her usual sharp suit replaced with a more casual but equally confident outfit.

"Lila!" Clara exclaimed, her voice practically vibrating with enthusiasm. She marched toward the counter and leaned over it, her grin contagious.

"What's going on?" Lila asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the heaviness in her chest.

Clara held out her hands dramatically. "Guess who just got promoted to senior partner?"

Lila's eyes widened. "Clara! Oh my God, that's amazing!"

"I know!" Clara beamed, practically bouncing on her heels. "All those late nights, all those grueling hours, it finally paid off. I mean, can you believe it? Me—a senior partner!"

Lila laughed, stepping out from behind the counter to wrap her arms around Clara. "I always believed in you. You've worked so hard for this. You deserve it."

Clara returned the hug with equal fervor before pulling back, her hands still on Lila's shoulders. "And you know what this calls for, don't you?"

Lila raised an eyebrow, already suspecting where this was headed. "Let me guess—a celebration?"

"Not just any celebration," Clara said, her eyes glinting mischievously. "A full-blown, let-your-hair-down, forget-your-worries kind of party. And you, my dear, are coming with me."

Lila hesitated, the familiar weight of reluctance settling over her. It wasn't that she didn't want to celebrate Clara's success—she truly did. But the idea of being surrounded by people, forced to make small talk and pretend she wasn't drowning in her own grief, felt daunting.

"Clara, I don't know…"

Clara's expression softened, her excitement tempered by understanding. "Lila, I get it. I know things haven't been easy for you, and I would never push you to do something you're not ready for. But maybe… maybe this is exactly what you need. A night to just breathe, to celebrate something good. You don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to. Just come for me, okay?"

Lila looked into Clara's earnest eyes and felt a pang of guilt. Clara had been her rock through everything, never once wavering in her support. Maybe Clara was right. Maybe she did need this, even if only to remind herself that life could still hold moments of joy.

"Okay," Lila said finally, her voice soft but resolute. "I'll go."

Clara's face lit up again, and she clapped her hands together. "Yes! This is going to be so much fun. I promise you won't regret it."

As Clara started outlining her plans for the evening—everything from the venue to what Lila should wear—Lila's gaze drifted back to the carnations on the counter. The vibrant blooms seemed to echo Clara's enthusiasm, their colors a reminder that life, despite its heartbreaks, still had room for beauty and celebration.

Later that afternoon, after Clara had left to finalize her party preparations, Lila found herself standing in front of the bouquet of carnations once more. She traced her fingers over the petals, her heart a mix of emotions she couldn't quite untangle.

James's voice echoed in her mind again. "Even on your toughest days, remember that you're surrounded by love. You just have to look for it."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Lila allowed herself to truly feel the weight of those words. She had spent so long drowning in her grief that she had forgotten how to see the love still present in her life—the love of friends like Clara, the quiet love she poured into her flowers, and maybe, just maybe, the love waiting for her in the future.

That evening, as she closed up the shop and prepared to head home, Lila felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope. It was fragile, like the petals of a carnation, but it was there. And for the first time, she was ready to hold on to it.