Wendy would never stop manipulating him, and he would always let her. It was apparent in the fallout of what she’d said. Two words from Wendy, and our future had been wiped away.

Wiped away but not gone. Like a chalkboard—a smear and swirl of chalk dust, the message beneath it only dimmed by the sweep and residue left by the eraser of those two little words: I’m pregnant.

Time. I needed time to catalog and assess the damage. But I would not get it. Not if I knew Luke.

I drew a breath to fortify me as I approached the shop, slowing when I saw the windows, stopping when I realized what was beyond.

Luke had reworked the windows with a concept we’d only discussed. But he had taken the idea and made something beyond my imagination, the message bringing sharp tears to my eyes, setting those embers in my heart aflame.

Giant dandelion heads stood in the window on the left, nearly as tall as me and too big around for my arms to encompass. Foxtails composed the globe of feathery seeds, and the five dandelions were bent toward the door and the right window as if the wind were blowing the seeds away. Across the windows they went, suspended in flight. And in the window on the right, written in daisies and surrounded by flying foxtails, were the words Make a Wish.

I wondered if he’d made a wish, wondered what he’d wished for. And then I closed my eyes and made one of my own with my broken heart nicking my ribs.

I swiped my tears away and turned for the door, the cheerful ding of the bell a small blasphemy. The shop was already busy, my tardiness granted by Ivy and fully expended by me, though not to rest and not to find answers. Both had eluded me with expert skill.

Jett offered a small smile and a nod of comfort as I passed, but I was scanning for Luke, heart thudding and breath shallow. But to my relief, I only found Ivy, who rushed me much faster than a woman of her gestation should be able to.

She scooped me into a hug. “Oh, Tess. I’m sorry.”

I love him. I gave him my heart, and now, he’ll break it. He won’t even mean to. I shouldn’t have done it. I’d do it again.

“I’m okay,” I lied, forcing a smile as I gave her a squeeze and backed away. “How many orders are we working with?”

She worried at her lip, clearly not wanting to talk about work. But she said, “Fourteen. We’re behind from yesterday, and a bunch came in this morning.”

“Good. I could use something to do with my hands.”

A feeble laugh from Ivy. “A whole day off too much for you?”

“You have no idea.”

I set up across from Ivy, flipping through the orders, making notes in my mind for what I’d need, grateful for another diversion. Luke had come up with an idea to have a Dealer’s Choice custom bouquet option—they would tell us their price range and the recipient’s favorite color and flower, if they had one, and I’d make something off the cuff. They had become my favorite bouquets to make simply because each bouquet was different, and I relished in the challenge. They nudged the edges of my box, encouraging me to get out of it.