CHAPTER 35: Flowers
Knock. Knock.
Eleanor cracked open the door, already dreading the voice she knew was waiting behind it.
Her eyes squinted against the morning light. “No. No, no, no. Tell me this is a hallucination.”
Marcus Green stood on the porch like a perfectly sculpted bad decision, dressed in a charcoal button-up that fit him like it had been tailored by angels with a taste for drama. In his hands, a bouquet of white lilies and red tulips, bold and infuriatingly fragrant.
“Good morning to you too,” he said, smiling as if they hadn’t been verbally at war days ago.
She blinked at the flowers like they were carrying explosives. “Are you insane?”
“Possibly,” Marcus replied. “But I brought flowers. I’ve never done this in my entire life. I googled what women like after intense
