Chapter 36 Flowers
KARA’S POV
The flowers start arriving the very next day. A bouquet of white lilies sits neatly on my desk when I step into the office Tuesday morning. No card and no name. Just pristine petals, dewy and deliberate, like someone made sure they’d arrive before I did.
Allyn whistles from the next cubicle.
“Wow. Someone’s serious.”
I stare at them longer than necessary. “Or someone forgot how introductions work.”
By Wednesday, it’s roses.
Thursday, tulips.
Friday, something extravagant and blush-toned that smells expensive and impossible to ignore.
Cathy leans over the divider, eyes sparkling. “Secret admirer?”
I sigh, already knowing the answer even without the name. “Not secret. Just… persistent.”
My phone buzzes right on cue.
Luheen:
Good morning, Kara. How are you?
Me:
I'm alright, hbu?
Luheen:
I'm fine because I was told by you that you're fine too.
There’s always that pause after his messages. Not awkward, not forced, and just waiting. Like he’s giving me space instead of demanding a reaction.
Luheen:
Lunch today?
Me:
I can’t, I need to meet the deadlines.
Luheen:
Dinner then?
I stare at the screen, searching myself for excitement, butterflies, or anything.
But there’s nothing.
Me:
Another time?
Luheen:
Of course. Take care of yourself today.
Always gentle, always kind, and always safe. And maybe that’s the problem.
Weeks pass like that. Flowers, Messages, and check-ins.
Luheen:
Did you eat?
Luheen:
How was work?
Luheen:
Good luck on your meeting today.
Sancha groans one afternoon when she sees another bouquet in my condo. “Girl, if green flags were currency, this man would be a billionaire.”
“I know,” I say quietly.
“Then what’s wrong?”
I sit on the couch, staring at the flowers like they might accuse me of something.
“I don’t feel it.”
She softens. “Not even a little?”
I shake my head.
“It’s the same way I feel about Aaron. Comfortable, platonic, Like… I care, but it doesn’t reach my chest.”
“That doesn’t make you cruel,” she says gently. “It makes you honest.”
“But it makes me tired,” I whisper. “Because I want to feel something. I just can’t force it.”
She nudges my knee. “Then don’t. Don’t punish yourself for not falling in love on schedule.”
Two months pass.
And Finnian disappears. No sightings, no whispers, and no accidental crossings in lobbies or hallways that make my heart jump before I can stop it. Cathy never brings him up and I don’t ask. Life goes on, annoyingly persistent in that way it has. But at night, when the city quiets and my phone is face-down on the nightstand, he comes back.
In my thoughts.
In the memory of his voice saying my name like it mattered, in the way he looked at me like he saw something I couldn’t yet name, in the anger I saw that day at the restaurant, raw and uncontrolled, and how it scared me because part of me understood it.
Some nights, I open our old message thread just to stare at the last thing he sent.
Finnian:
Let me explain.
I never replied. One evening, Cathy finally breaks. We’re alone in the office again, summer thinning the workforce down to skeleton crews. She hesitates before speaking and fingers fidgeting with her pen.
“Kara… can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
She swallows. “Do you miss Luheen? The man who is always here to pick you up”
My throat tightens.
“Why did you ask?”
She nods slowly. “He left, Finnian left.”
I look up sharply. “Left?”
“He transferred operations overseas. At Europe, I think. It was sudden.” She hesitates. “He didn’t say goodbye to anyone, even to me.”
Something hollow opens in my chest.
“Oh.”
That’s all I manage. That night, Luheen texts.
Luheen:
I made reservations tomorrow. Somewhere quiet. I’d really like to take you out properly this time.
I stare at the message for a long time.
Me:
Luheen… you’re amazing, Truly. But I think I need to stop pretending I’m ready for something I’m not.
The reply takes longer than usual.
Luheen:
Thank you for telling me. I hoped, but I understand. You deserve to feel everything, not just settle.
My chest aches, sharp and unfair.
Me:
I’m sorry.
Luheen:
Don’t be. Whoever has your heart… they’re lucky.
The messages stop and the flowers still comes the next morning, the office feels strangely bare. He is still sending me flowers after all. And standing by the window, watching the city move like nothing ever pauses for heartbreak, I finally admit the truth I’ve been circling for months.
I didn’t fall for the man who tried the hardest, I fell for the one who broke me without meaning to. And even now, even with distance and time and silence between us, a part of me is still waiting for Finnian Matthew Stewheinz.
Like an unfinished sentence and like a goodbye I never got to hear.