Chapter 110
He looked at me carefully. “Would you want to see her?“\
The shop suddenly felt too quiet. The breeze too sharp. My chest tightened with memories I hadn’t visited in years: My hands, once busy arranging tulips, stilled.\
“My mother…” I whispered, eyes fixed on the petals in front of me.
I remembered the last time I saw her. I was nineteen. Angry. Wild. Lost.
My father had just died, and she remarried so quickly, it was like he’d never existed. One month after the funeral, she wore white again. I couldn’t understand how she could smile while I was still mourning. I accused her of betrayal. Of disrespect. I screamed that she replaced my father–and me. And when I couldn’t take it anymore, I left.”
I could still hear her voice from that night we argued.}
“Sam, please don’t do this. You don’t know him,” she had said, standing in the doorway with tear–stained cheeks.
“I do know him,” I snapped. “He loves me–unlike you, who moved on before Dad’s body was even cold.”
I ran straight into Jackson’s arms. Even when she begged me not to marry him, I didn’t listen. I thought she was bitter. Controlling. Trying to ruin my idea of love.
She flinched. “I didn’t move on–I just tried to survive.“\
“You replaced us,” I hissed. “You replaced him.”
Her words still haunted me. “One day, you’ll understand why I tried to stop you.”
And now, years later, I did.
God, I did. I just wished I hadn’t learned it the hard way. But she was right. Mother’s always right.
“I don’t think she’d want to see me,” I said, my voice hollow. “After everything I did… how I blamed her, pushed her away, married Jackson just to prove her wrong. I never even said sorry.”
Inigo didn’t interrupt. He just waited, letting me break in silence.
“I was so angry at her back then. I hated that she moved on so fast. I hated her new husband. I hated their house, their life. I just-” I paused, then exhaled slowly. “I didn’t want to be part of that new family. So I chose my own.“}
“And look where that led you,” he said gently.
I nodded. “It led me here. And honestly… sometimes, I hate myself for leaving. For not listening. For being a terrible daughter.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “What if she wants to see you too?”
I blinked. “She does?“}
“Good thing,” he said with a smile, “she visited.“”
My breath caught. “Visited?“}
He stepped aside, and my heart nearly leapt from my chest.
There she was–Sasha–my mother, standing just outside the doorway, holding a bouquet of lavender I had just trimmed this morning.
Her eyes met mine, soft and nervous. A thousand unsaid words hovered between us.
“I… carne to buy flowers,” she said, voice gentle. “And maybe… to see my daughter.“”
My throat closed. I hadn’t cried in weeks, but the sight of her–alive, graceful, older than I remembered but still radiant- shattered something in me.”
“Mama…” I whispered, tears spilling fast.”
She stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Sam.“”
“No–no, I’m the one who should say sorry,” I said quickly, reaching for her hands. “I was so angry. I didn’t understand. I was selfish. I left you–“%
She shook her head, cupping my cheek. “You were grieving. I rushed everything. I should’ve waited. I should’ve explained. I never stopped loving you, Samantha.“”
I sobbed as I hugged her, burying my face in her shoulder, inhaling the scent of the perfume I used to sneak from her dresser as a child. “I missed you, Mama. So much.“W
“I missed you too, baby.”
For a long time, we stayed like that, just breathing, healing years of silence in one embrace.!!
When we finally pulled away, she looked around the shop and smiled. “It’s beautiful. It looks like you.”
“Thank you,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I’m trying to build something new.”
“You’re doing it,” she replied. “I’m proud of you.”
Then she asked, cautiously, “Would you… want to come home with me? Just for a while. We could catch up.“\
I smiled but shook my head gently. “I’d love to visit. But for now… I want to spend more time with Inigo. I want to get to know the man I’m going to marry. I think I owe myself that.“\
Sasha nodded, her smile tender. “Then I’ll wait. And visit. And bring lemon pie.“\
I laughed. “Still your specialty.“”
After a few more hugs, she left the shop, promising to return soon.
And the moment she was gone, I broke down all over again.”
I leaned into Inigo’s chest and cried–not because I was in pain, but because I was finally free. Free of guilt. Free of anger. Free to love, and be loved.}
“Thank you,” I whispered into his shirt. “Thank you for finding her. For giving me this.“”
He chuckled softly, brushing a tear from my cheek. “You’re welcome.”
I pulled back and kissed him–a long, tender kiss full of all the gratitude and softness I’d been holding in.
He blinked, slightly dazed. “Wow.“”
I laughed. “What?”
“I didn’t know a kiss from you felt like winning the lottery.“”
“You’re ridiculous.“\
He grinned. “Well, I’ll just have to make you this happy forever so I can keep getting them.”
I kissed him again. “You’re doing a pretty good job so far.”
And for the first time in years, I truly believed happiness wasn’t just a dream.
It was blooming–right here, in the middle of a flower shop, with love I never expected, and forgiveness I never thought I deserved.&
