35
“Good morning, Blanche,” a male voice said. The voice she’d been longing to hear. The voice she’d been dreading to hear.
Blanche looked up into Anton’s deep blue eyes. Her stomach fluttered, and her heart started doing cartwheels.
“I’m dropping off Helena and bringing these for the shop.” He held out a bunch of yellow roses. “Helena mentioned it was the tenth anniversary of the opening.”
A tentative smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She didn’t trust herself to smile back but reached out and took the roses.
“Thank you, so thoughtful. Naida …” She kept her eyes down. “Naida will love them. Everyone will.”
Oh, the stiffness between them was horrible. They’d been so comfortable before, and now she didn’t want to meet his eye. Didn’t want to see love or hope. She mustn’t give h
