Chapter Two: A Return to the Unexpected
872 Words
The following days were a whirlwind for Matteo. Meetings, reports, and endless calls consumed his time as always. Yet, amidst the chaos of his corporate life, a single image kept creeping into his thoughts—her. Amara, with her warm smile and carefree laugh, seemed to have imprinted herself in his mind. He found himself recalling the scent of her shop, the way her fingers moved with care among the flowers, and, most annoyingly, her words.
"Life’s too short to not enjoy the little things."
He chuckled bitterly as he signed another contract. "Easier said than done," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.
But by the end of the week, Matteo found himself in a strange predicament. His mother, thrilled with the bouquet he had given her, had asked for another one. And as much as he wanted to delegate the task, something held him back.
Which is how, on a quiet Friday afternoon, Matteo found himself standing in front of Amara’s flower shop once again.
---
The bell above the door chimed as Matteo stepped inside. This time, the shop was busier, with customers chatting and browsing through the vibrant selection of flowers. Amara was at the counter, her face lighting up when she saw him.
"Mr. De Luca," she greeted, her voice playful. "Back so soon? Did your mother not like the bouquet?"
Matteo smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. "On the contrary, she loved it. She wants another one."
"Ah," Amara teased, "so you’re becoming a regular customer now."
"Don’t get too excited," Matteo replied, his tone dry but with a hint of amusement. "I’m here strictly on my mother’s behalf."
"Of course," Amara said with a grin. "Let me guess—elegant but not too bright again?"
He nodded. "You know her taste better than I do at this point."
As Amara moved to gather flowers, Matteo’s gaze wandered around the shop. He noticed small details he hadn’t before—the delicate watercolor paintings of flowers on the walls, the soft classical music playing in the background, and the faint scent of lavender that seemed to linger in the air.
"So, how’s the busy CEO life?" Amara asked, breaking his thoughts.
"As chaotic as ever," Matteo admitted. "And you? Business seems to be doing well."
Amara shrugged, arranging white tulips and hydrangeas with practiced ease. "It’s simple but fulfilling. I get to meet all kinds of people, share a little beauty with them, and hopefully brighten their day."
Matteo raised an eyebrow. "Do you always see the world through rose-colored glasses?"
She laughed at that. "Not always. But I’ve learned that if you focus too much on the bad, you’ll miss the good."
"That’s a nice sentiment," Matteo said, though he sounded skeptical. "But in my world, focusing on the bad is what keeps the good from falling apart."
"Maybe," Amara said thoughtfully, "but sometimes the bad takes over because we let it. Have you ever tried just… letting go?"
Matteo opened his mouth to respond but stopped when a little boy ran up to the counter, holding a small potted plant.
"Tita Amara, puwede ko bang bilhin ito? Patingin lang po ako ng price," the boy said, looking up at her with wide eyes.
Amara knelt to his level, her smile soft. "Of course, Nathan. Pero sigurado ka bang ito ang gusto mo? Marami pang iba diyan."
The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Ito po! Pangregalo kay Mama."
"Okay," Amara said, ruffling his hair. "Maganda ‘yan. Sandali lang ha, bibigyan kita ng magandang ribbon para mas special."
Matteo watched the exchange, feeling an unexpected pang of something he couldn’t quite name. Amara’s warmth, the way she treated even the smallest of her customers, was so unlike the cold efficiency he was used to.
When she returned to the counter, bouquet in hand, Matteo spoke without thinking. "You’re good with people."
Amara blinked, surprised by the compliment. "Thank you. I just try to treat them the way I’d want to be treated."
Matteo nodded, taking the bouquet from her hands. Their fingers brushed briefly, and he pulled back, clearing his throat.
"How much do I owe you?" he asked, reaching for his wallet.
"On the house," Amara said, waving him off.
"What?" Matteo frowned. "That doesn’t seem fair."
"It’s a thank-you," she explained. "For coming back. And for trusting me with your mother’s flowers."
"That’s hardly a reason to—"
"Consider it a little joy in your busy life," Amara interrupted, her tone light but firm.
Matteo hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Thank you. I’ll… see you around."
"Take care, Matteo," Amara said, her smile lingering as he left the shop.
---
Outside, Matteo paused, the bouquet in his hand. For the second time, he found himself walking away from the shop with more than just flowers. There was something about Amara—her sincerity, her lightheartedness—that made him feel as though he was missing out on something important.
He didn’t know what it was yet, but for the first time in years, Matteo felt a pull toward something—or someone—beyond the confines of his meticulously planned life.
And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he knew he’d be back.
- Writer
