by Talli Roland
‘Just a sec.’ Willow pushed through the shop door and rummaged under the counter where she’d put her box of treasures. After combing through mouldy packages in the cellar, she’d finally managed to unearth it. Opening the cardboard flaps, part of her still couldn’t believe she was actually going to use all the things she’d set aside for ‘one day’.
As Willow shook out the apron, something metallic fell from the folds, clanking across the wooden floor. What was that? Bending over, her eyes fell on a small, pewter placard. Her fingers closed around it, heart beating fast.
‘Welcome to Willow’s,’ she read aloud, running her fingertips over the delicately engraved letters entwined with Disa orchids. A small chain looped around the top and Willow remembered Alex holding it up proudly, a tender expression on his face as he explained it had been specially crafted for her. Tears filled her eyes as she stared down at the placard in her hands. He’d been such a big part of this dream, believing in her from the first time she’d hesitantly told him.
‘I’m waiting!’ Paula burst into the shop, face falling as she clocked Willow’s expression. ‘Wills, what’s wrong?’
Willow showed her the placard. ‘I just found this. Alex had it made for me, way back when.’ She sighed. ‘I know it’s been ages and he’s with someone else now, but . . . I don’t know. I really wish I could share this with him.’ She thought again of his laughing demand that he’d better be the first customer she served, complete with a giant bouquet of Disas.
‘Well, nothing’s stopping you,’ Paula said. She rolled her eyes as Willow started to protest that actually, there was something stopping her, something by the name of Claire. ‘Look, you don’t know they’re together for sure, do you? And say what you like about nostalgia, but I don’t think he’d take you out to dinner and talk about the past if he didn’t still feel something. He doesn’t seem like the kind of bloke to play games.’
A tiny ball of hope tumbled through Willow. Could Paula be right?
‘And you were the one who suggested breaking up,’ Paula said, warming to her argument. ‘For God’s sake, Willow, if you care that much about the man, bloody well tell him already!’
Willow tilted her head, thoughts racing. Perhaps Paula was right – and her father, too. Maybe, just maybe, if two people truly loved each other, it was that simple.
Sure, Alex might be with someone now – no matter what Paula thought, all the signs seemed to point that way. He might very well listen to what she had to say, and push her away. But Willow wasn’t going to sit back and keep quiet. She was going to follow her heart . . . straight to Alex.
‘I’m heading to London,’ Willow said, every inch of her filling with determination. ‘And I’m going to tell Alex how I really feel.’
Thank God!’ Paula nodded with approval. ‘So what are you going to say?’
Willow met her friend’s gaze. ‘Just that I still love him. That’s all. It’s not going to change what happened between us, but I need him to know.’
‘Well, in that case, you’d better hit the road!’ Paula fumbled in her pocket and handed Willow her car keys. ‘Here. The faster you get there, the better. I reckon he’s been waiting a long time to hear it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE SCENT OF DISAS filled the small car as Willow hurtled down the motorway toward London. She’d never driven in the city and she should be anxious, but her hands were cold and clammy at the thought of what she was about to do, not the traffic. Compared to telling Alex how she felt, navigating roundabouts was the least of her worries.
This time, she wasn’t going to back down. Now, she was going to go for what she wanted, the same way she’d grabbed the chance for the flower shop. If there was one thing she’d learnt from this Marilyn fiasco, it was that if something was important, you had to fight for it. There was no point hiding behind disguises or excuses.
Putting together Alex’s bouquet had used up each and every Disa she’d ordered for the opening tomorrow, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she told him about her new flower shop. But would he give her back the flowers; remember what he’d said about returning the Disas to the woman he loved? Every little bit of her hoped he would, but even if he didn’t . . . well, at least she’d tried.
Willow steered the car through the low, grey London suburbs, down the traffic-clogged Marylebone Road, through Bloomsbury and finally, into the heart of the City. Spotting an empty space near her destination, she manoeuvred the car into it and got out, slotting some coins into the meter with shaking fingers. Alex’s building was just a few steps away.
Shoving the passenger seat forward, she gingerly removed the Disas from the back. The bouquet was enormous, and she nearly collided with City workers rushing out for lunch.
Inside the building, Willow went up the lift and strode over to the same receptionist from the last time she’d been here in all her Marilyn glory. The woman didn’t show any sign of recognition, not that it was surprising. With her face scrubbed free from make-up and her dirt-stained trousers, Willow couldn’t look more different if she tried.
‘Can I help you?’ the blonde asked. ‘Who’s the delivery for?’
‘Delivery?’ Willow repeated, before realising that, given her current appearance, she probably resembled a tradesman. Maybe she should have taken the time to change. But Alex wouldn’t care, she told herself, remembering his cheeky grin when he said she looked best with nothing on.
‘Alex Fielding.’ Willow’s heart pounded just saying the words.
‘Do you have something I need to sign?’ The receptionist reached out to take the flowers, but Willow tightened her grip.
‘No!’ she said. ‘I mean, I have instructions to deliver them personally.’
‘Fine. I’ll see if Alex is around.’ The woman clicked on her keyboard for a moment, and Willow felt like she was about to pass out. ‘Sorry, you’re out of luck,’ the receptionist said finally. ‘He’s off site at the moment.
‘Off site?’ Surely he couldn’t be holidaying again already.
‘Yup.’ The receptionist clacked away. ‘But actually, you can walk there from here. He’s at St Dunstan’s Gardens. Just go out, turn left on Mincing Lane and keep walking. You’ll see the gardens off the side of the road – about a five minute walk, max.’
‘Thanks.’ Willow turned as quickly as the Disas would allow and followed the directions, hurrying down Mincing Lane and across a busy street until she came to a patch of green on her right. This must be it – in amongst the tightly packed buildings of the old city, it was like an unexpected oasis. She climbed a few stairs and pushed through a gate, letting the greenery calm her spirits. A few office workers lounged here and there with their lunches, and quiet chatter and laughter floated through the air.
But where was Alex? Willow walked down a pathway toward what looked to be the ruins of an old church. Maybe he was in there, doing some kind of restoration work? She stopped as she reached a circular area dotted with benches, and scanned the space in front of her. Just a few metres ahead, a man was busily examining an old stone wall. And by the set of his shoulders and the fluid way he was moving, she knew without even seeing his face it was Alex.
Her breath caught in her throat and her pulse whooshed in her ears. Now was the time to face the man she loved and open her heart to him, no matter how he chose to respond. Forcing her trembling lips into a smile, Willow took a few tentative steps forward.
Oh! Instinctively, Willow jerked the flowers in front of her face when a woman appeared around the other side of the wall, laying a hand on Alex’s arm and laughing at something he said. Claire. Sneaking a peek around the bouquet, Willow swore silently as she spotted Claire approaching. The sharp click of high heels on the stone walkway got louder and louder as the woman drew closer, and Willow froze. What the hell was she going to say? Don’t mind me, I’m just here to give your boyfriend flowers?
‘Are those for me?’ Claire’s crisp accent floated ov
er the top of the bouquet.
Sighing, Willow slowly lowered the flowers. God, she’d rather have Krusty peck her to death than be here right now. ‘Hello, Claire,’ she said, taking in the woman’s tailored grey suit and a red blouse that had been ironed to within an inch of its life.
‘Do I know you?’ Claire leaned forward, staring intently. ‘Wait, aren’t you . . .’ She squinted, then snapped her fingers. ‘I know. You’re that little florist Alex used to date eons ago, aren’t you!’
Little florist? God, that was almost as bad as when Claire had mistaken her for staff. ‘Actually, I own my own business now.’
‘Oh, well done,’ Claire said, as if Willow had just learned to eat with utensils. Well, Willow wasn’t going to waste more time trying to impress the uppity cow.
‘Thanks for bringing the flowers.’ Claire tried to tug them out of Willow’s arms. ‘But can you really afford to be giving away samples like this? It’s a tough climate out there these days. Apparently seven in ten small businesses go bankrupt within a month of opening.’
Willow gritted her teeth, tightening her grasp on the stems. ‘Actually, these are for Alex.’
‘Aw, how sweet. You’ve brought your ex-boyfriend flowers. Hope you don’t still have feelings for him. The man’s got one true love, and that’s his work.’ Claire threw a glance over her shoulder toward Alex, where he was busily examining the ruins with his back still turned. ‘God, when we went to Antigua last month to design that hotel, he wouldn’t even take a break for the beach.’ She stuck out her lower lip. ‘I had to sunbathe all on my own!’
Willow’s mouth dropped open. That trip to Antigua had been work?
‘What kind of person gives a man flowers, anyway?’ Claire grumbled as she turned away and strode off back toward the wall. ‘Alex! Someone’s here for you!’
Alex swivelled in Willow’s direction, his eyebrows flying up when he spotted her. Willow held his gaze as he came closer. Please God, may he see how she felt. And please may he still feel the same way.
‘Willow!’ he said when he reached her. ‘What are you doing here? And what’s with the Disas?’ His brow furrowed in that cute way she remembered, and she only just stopped herself from reaching up and smoothing out the wrinkles.
‘Um . . .’ Willow took a deep breath. Now that he was in front of her, remarkably her hands no longer shook. ‘Remember when you said if I ever opened a florist shop, you wanted to be the first customer?’
‘Yes. Of course.’ His eyes widened. ‘But have you? You’ve opened your own shop?’
‘Yes,’ Willow said proudly. ‘Well, it’s not officially open yet. Tomorrow’s the big day.’
‘Congratulations.’ He nodded, looking impressed. ‘But what about Marilyn?’
Willow shrugged. ‘Marilyn’s not me. And I decided I wanted to be me more.’
‘Well, I’m glad.’ Alex’s lips curved in a smile.
They both fell silent, and all Willow could hear was the chirping of birds. She took a step closer to him, her arms overflowing with flowers. ‘So, here. Your Disas.’
Alex paused and fear clutched at Willow’s heart. What if he refused to even take the Disas?
‘Alex, I never should have suggested breaking up. And I shouldn’t have kept you at arm’s length when we went out to dinner a few weeks ago.’ Her blood raced through her veins like it was on fire and she couldn’t release her words quickly enough. ‘But you have to know that I love you. Through everything that’s happened, I’ve never stopped.’
Alex was silent again, but his brow had relaxed. It was no longer as smooth as it once had been; she could see the beginnings of faint furrows still marking his skin. It was a reminder that time had passed – time they could have spent together. Her pulse raced as she awaited his response.
Finally, he reached out and lifted the Disas from her. Willow crossed her empty arms, as if protecting herself from a coming blow. Maybe he wouldn’t give her back the bouquet. But at least she’d told him how she’d felt; finally fought to have him.
Then, with a smile spreading on his face, Alex pressed the Disas toward her. Clutching them against her chest, Willow almost couldn’t believe he really meant the gesture. But his next words banished any doubt.
‘I’m returning them to the woman I love,’ he said simply.
And with that, he took both her and the Disas into his arms, then lowered his lips to hers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘THIS IS IT!’ WILLOW beamed over at Alex and Paula. Today was the day: the grand opening of Willow’s Blossoms, and already it seemed like half the town had assembled outside, waiting to surge in. Even Matthias had come, saying he just wanted to wish her well. Spotting him smiling through the window at Paula, though, Willow suspected the shop wasn’t the real reason for his presence. She scanned the small space one more time to make sure everything was in place, then nodded with satisfaction. Even the flowers appeared perky and welcoming.
‘Everything looks great,’ Alex said, and she squeezed his hand, thrilled he was still right by her side. After a quick phone call back to his office yesterday, they’d lingered in the park for hours, crashing out on the soft grass until dusk. Alex had explained his hasty departure from Belcherton a few weeks ago – something Willow now suspected Jay had a hand in – and chuckled at the thought of him and Claire together. Then he’d driven Willow back to Belcherton and they’d gone up to her room where . . . she sighed. Everything had been amazing.
In the morning, they’d got up early to the sound of Krusty’s cawing, gobbled down a big fry-up, and gone next door to put the finishing touches to the shop before the opening. They hadn’t talked much about the future – how things would work, with Alex in London and her here – but Willow knew they’d figure it out. Now that she’d found him again, she wasn’t about to let go.
‘Sorry, just wanted to make sure we have enough raffia.’ Cissy came in from the small supply closet in the back. ‘We’re all good to go.’
‘Thanks, Cissy.’ Willow had been surprised when Cissy asked if she needed a part-time assistant, but she’d happily taken her on board. The older woman had been an invaluable help already, organising all the last-minute details Willow hadn’t had time for. And she was happy to see Cissy eager to be out and about; to meet more people in the community and not fade back into her solitary lifestyle.
‘Ready, then?’ Willow asked.
‘Ready!’ the group chorused back.
Willow breathed in deeply to steady her nerves. With trembling fingers, she took the pewter placard from Alex and hung it carefully on the glass door. She paused for a second, then swung it open.
‘Welcome to Willow’s Blossoms!’ she said to the assembled crowd.
A spontaneous swell of applause swept over the group and Willow’s cheeks flushed with pleasure and pride. This time, they weren’t cheering someone she was impersonating. This time, they were cheering her.
And she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be.
THE END
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