Chapter 2
301 Words
When Violet walked into the flower shop the next morning, the place was deathly quiet. She looked up to see a sharp-dressed man sitting in one of the shop chairs, his long fingers drumming idly on the table.
Before him, the manager mopped sweat from his brow and bowed repeatedly. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Blake. It's entirely our fault."
Adrian drawled, "I'm not trying to make trouble, but the flowers I bought yesterday were already wilted. My wife is furious." His gaze slid toward Violet in the corner, and he curled his lips. "How about this: fire the employee who waited on me yesterday. That will be apology enough for my wife. She's only twenty-two. Young and impulsive. I'm sure you understand."
The manager stood frozen, visibly torn.
Violet remained rooted to the spot, her hands balled into fists at her sides. The divorce had been a disaster. She had nothing to her name, and no company dared hire her. She had washed dishes, hauled bricks, picked through trash, even begged on the street. This job at the flower shop was hard work, but at least it was steady. She couldn't lose it.
"Mr. Blake," Violet stepped forward, meeting his eyes. "I was also twenty-two when I married you. We were husband and wife once. Tell me, what do I have to do just to survive?"
The words landed like a stone in still water. The manager and the other staff stared, mouths open. Adrian's smile evaporated. He stared at her, then said in a low, heavy voice, "Let me see Rosie."
He actually had the nerve to say that name Rosie. A father like him didn't deserve any visit in front of Rosie's stone. Violet laughed out loud. Looking into Adrian's eyes, she could almost see herself three years ago.
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