Page 109 of Yours, For Now

He didn't stop at any of them, though. I sighed and followed Gabe through the cobblestone street, a cold breeze in the air. We held hands, and he used the connection to guide me to a store with dark green walls and a big sign in golden letters that read,La Belle Fleur.

Gabe knocked on the door, despite the sign indicating it was closed.

I frowned. "Are you sure this is where you meant to take me?"

He gazed at me and nodded, just as the lights turned on inside and someone opened the door.

He smiled at me before turning to the petite woman that appeared in front of us.

"Hi," Gabe said. "I'm Gabriel Sotomayor, I called earlier today. I talked to Martina on the phone."

"Hi, yes. That was me. Come on in."

The woman opened the door for us and we stepped into the space. Flowers and vases filled every corner of the store, colors exploding in multiple textures against every shade of green imaginable. Shelves created surfaces for more blossoms, exotic and classic ones alike, layering flowers into a lush display. Even the counter was covered in flowers in pretty vases, leaving only the center of the room open to us.

I turned in a circle, admiring the effect. Some of these flowers were meant to be outside during the day but, at night, they all came together into the shop and made it breathtaking.

"I'll be in the back room, if you need me." Martina smiled at us, and left us alone.

I turned to Gabe. "I must admit my curiosity is piqued. What are we doing here?"

He smiled as he stepped closer to me. He looked me straight in the eye. "Do you think they're pretty?"

"Yes." I squinted at him. "That's never been my problem with flowers. They're gorgeous, of course."

I didn't think he'd forgotten our conversation about flowers before, so I bit my tongue not to remind him. He'd get to it soon.

"What would you say if I told you I would get every single flower here for you, if you wanted? That you can pick anything you want."

"I'd say you know they make me sad."

He nodded. "Yes. So how about something more permanent?"

He took a velvet box from his pocket and presented it to me.

I stopped breathing, my eyes glued to the small rectangular case.

"It's not a ring, Lina. You can breathe again."

My lungs restarted into a soft chuckle, and I stared at him, my hands clasped tight in front of me.

He smirked. "You said you weren't waiting for a ring at the end of this, remember?"

"I remember." I blinked a few times.

He opened the box. "But I did say I might get you a commemorative brooch."

A beautiful vintage gold flower rested in the velvet case. The stem curved slightly, and two delicately carved leaves wrapped around it. Several layers of petals surrounded the center disc, with small diamonds suggesting dew drops. The disc itself was made of a single deep yellow crystal, each internal facet glimmering in the light. A striking golden dahlia. My gasp was quiet, but audible.

He chuckled and took it out of its container. "To be honest, when I bought it I did so hoping it would make you laugh. A gasp works well, though, because now I hope you like it enough to keep. Maybe even use it."

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous! Can you help me put it on my lapel?"

He handled the piece of jewelry on the thick wool of my jacket, his concentration frown in place.

"When I picked it," he said, securing the brooch and contemplating the results, "I thought it was a way to give you permanent flowers. This one wouldn't make you sad. It will never die. So maybe you would look at it and remember me fondly."

The flower on my lapel had a beautiful patina; the crystals on it shone. A knot threatened to form in my throat but I fought it. Gabe had given me no signs to say this was goodbye or something different. With his good-guy, cinnamon roll personality— so salient in most contexts, except when it counted— I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't considered changing the rules of our arrangement. Besides, he was stretched thin at work, and I'd understand if he wanted to prioritize that and his family.