Apr 12, 2023
Flower
for @schittscreekdrabbleblog
David plucks the petals from the dozen long-stemmed roses Sebastien had delivered.
He loves me. He loves me not.
Petals litter the floor, and tears streak David’s cheeks. Not even halfway through dismembering the beautifully boxed apology flowers, he knows the truth.
Still, he plucks. He wants to be wrong.
.
David picks each petal from the floor then moves to the bed. He examines the delicate flowerheads there. Bruised and torn. Ground into Egyptian cotton. He plucks the survivors from the sheets to turn into potpourri.
Their bedroom overlooks Patrick’s well-tended garden. Roses in full bloom.
He loves me.
.
