“Wait, I know—” I attempt to explain, but she cuts me off.

“I don’t want to hear it. I was relieved to think Kerry had met a decent man and even more relieved when she finally got a job offer. She’s given so much to this town yet received so little in return, and now you’ve hurt her, too.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” I reply earnestly. “She deserves better. That’s why I’m here.”

Kiera eyes me warily but nods, acknowledging my intent. “If you’re here to make things right, then show it.”

Encouraged, I ask for their help in creating a bouquet that says everything I struggle to voice. Izzy steps forward and takes over like the expert she is. “Tell me what you want to say with this bouquet.”

“I need to apologize to start,” I explain, watching as she selects white tulips, a symbol of forgiveness.

“I want to say thank you for her patience and for caring about my family,” Izzy weaves in orchids, representing admiration. “I admire her strength, her boldness.” She then adds peonies, symbols of bravery and honor.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say?” Izzy asks, her tone gentle, urging me to open up.

I hesitate. “I... I want her to know that I think she’s beautiful. That I... I crave her presence more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

Kiera and Izzy exchange a surprised but excited look before Izzy adds roses to the bouquet.

“This might be your best creation yet, Iz.” Kiera whispers.

“Anything for our girl,” Izzy replies, tying the bouquet together. “Kerry deserves this. And you better not mess this up, Vic.”

Grateful, I thank them and leave with the bouquet, making one last stop at a local bookshop. Remembering Kerry’s love for romance and Black literature, I purchase loads of new books to fill the library.

When we approach Kerry’s home, my nerves spike when I see a tall, decent-looking man hugging her goodbye. Jealousy flares, but Gary tries to calm me. “Easy, son. It’s probably just a friend.”

Taking a deep breath, I approach with the bouquet in hand, catching the tail end of their conversation. Kerry’s eyes widen when she sees me. “Oh my god, that’s him. That’s Victor Grimes,” She whispers to the man.

The man turns around, and I’m immediately annoyed. He looks like the damn Black Clark Kent! His confident demeanor momentarily throws me off, and my jealousy spikes. Ready to stake my claim, I puff out my chest and extend my hand first in a show of bravado.

“Victor Grimes,” I announce, trying to mark my territory. “I’m Kerry’s boyfriend.”

He looks at me, unimpressed, and Kerry can’t help but laugh at my display. “Vic, you don’t have to pretend,” she gently chides. “He knows we aren’t really dating.”