A Rose in Bloom
“He hit you?”
“No, I kind of fell off the fire escape. So I’m sore all over, but nothing’s broken.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. All that happened and you still showed up to do the flowers for my sister?”
“Of course I did. What would she have done if I hadn’t brought the flowers?”
“Ha! She would’ve thrown a royal fit, I suppose.”
“And my reputation would’ve been shot.”
He leaned forward across the table, lowering his voice. “I can think of a lot more fun ways to ruin your reputation.”
“No, thanks. I’d like to keep my reputation intact.”
“You’ve ruined it already if you were engaged to McCall. I’m glad you came to your senses before it was too late.”
“What do you have against Jaxon?”
“Let’s just say he’s a bad sport. We were once interested in the same girl, and he talked a lot of trash about me trying to win her over.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “It didn’t work, though. She chose me over him, and he still resents me for it.”
“So you were married?”
“Married?”
“To the girl? The one you’re talking about? The girl who chose you over Jaxon?”
“No way. She turned out to be a little schemer—trying to trap me into marrying her. But it didn’t work.”
“Oh.”
“Are you ready to go?”
She covered a huge yawn with her hand. “Yes, I’m so tired. Thanks for the coffee.”
“I’ll follow you home and make sure you’re safe.”
“I’ll be fine. My brother got the door replaced today and hired someone to clean everything up.”
“I insist. It’s the least I can do for the girl who crawled out of the hospital to save my sister’s wedding.”
*****
Jaxon drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel in time to the music on the radio. He checked the time again. How long did it take to drink a cup of coffee? And why did he care anyway? She’d totally blown him off. Broken their engagement. Wait. What am I thinking? We were never actually engaged. Why am I here? I dodged a bullet tonight. I should be out celebrating.
Lights flashed in the alley. He slumped down in the front seat as Elyssa’s van pulled into her parking spot behind the flower shop. The engine stopped. A car door slammed. Another slam. Two doors? Was Carrington with her?
He edged his head up until he could see over the dash. Two figures stood outside the doorway in the dim streetlight. The door opened, and they disappeared inside. Now what? He’d only waited to make sure she got home safely. And she was home. But she wasn’t safe. Not as long as she was alone with Carrington. She was way too innocent to deal with a guy like him. She was even more innocent than Shelly. Unbidden tears came to his eyes.
*****
Even five years later he could still see her mascara-smudged face as she told him about the baby Carrington refused to claim. Even after the man kicked her out, insisting she get an abortion, she still loved him. She could have proven paternity, but she simply couldn’t live with the fact he’d rejected her. The paper had carried a two-inch story in the obituaries, buried on the bottom of the second page. Sixty words. The suicide wasn’t mentioned, of course. And neither was the pregnancy. And neither was Carrington. Despite the fact they’d lived together for six months. No testimony of her devotion. No expression of sorrow. Her entire existence reduced to sixty words.
And the worst part was he’d warned her about Carrington, but she refused to listen. She was swept off her feet with his smooth talk and lavish allowance. Fancy clothes, fancy dinners, fancy people. She truly believed she was Cinderella and Carrington was her handsome prince.
Jaxon tried to help. That night when she’d spilled the story and bared her broken heart to him. Theirs had never been a romantic relationship, but he’d offered to marry her. And he meant it. But she turned down the proposal with a kiss on the cheek. If only he’d known she was kissing him goodbye for the last time.
*****