I burst into tears. Uncontrollable sobs wracked my body and I couldn’t stop them. Soil was falling from my fingers onto the floor, and tears were streaming down my face. I hadn’t even bothered to look around my apartment to see what else was missing. I’d gone straight to the plants on the floor, because these were the only things of value that I owned.
CHAPTERSEVENTY-TWO
Ryan
“It’s okay,” he said softly to her. “Most of them look fine.”
“IT’S NOT OKAY!” she yelled through her crying. “You don’t understand . . . I need to save them. I can’t let them die. They cannot die!” She sounded desperate and he wracked his brain for a possible solution.
“I know! I have a huge garden. It’s full of soil and pots and whatever you need. We can take these damaged ones back to my place now and fix them.”
Her eyes immediately lit up. “You’d be okay with that?”
He crouched down next to her. “Yes. Let me help you pick them up.”
She smiled at him. A smile that was so big and genuine and joyous. It was also completely contagious. He smiled back at her and then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. It was quick,but it was everything.
“Thanks. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“It’s a pleasure, I’m just glad I was here to help you, but . . .” he hesitated. “I don’t think I can fit all of them in the car, just the damaged ones.”
She nodded.
He could see she was loath to leave the others behind. And then a noise came from the corner of the room and they both turned. The bloody pigeon was hiding behind a plant. It poked its head out and he sighed. “I guess he can come too,” he said.
He surveyed the crime scene. “I can call a removal truck in the morning to come and collect the rest of them, and I’ll call an emergency locksmith too. But you should pack a bag with your clothes and anything else valuable that you want to ta—”
“Wait,” she cut him off. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, you’re not staying here tonight, that’s for sure. Or ever.”
She blinked a few times. “Where do you want me to stay? I have nowhere else to go.”
“Yes, you do.” He smiled at her. “I have a guest cottage that you can stay in.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. That’s just . . . I mean, what would Emmy say? I can’t come and stay with you—”
“I’m not asking you to move in with me, Doris. Just until we sort this out. Until we know you’re safe here.”
She held his gaze for the longest time, as if she was deciding what to do. And then finally, she nodded. “Okay, thank you,” she said softly.
She didn’t need to say thank you, because truthfully, right now, in this moment, he thought he would do anything for her. Move mountains, move plants, whatever.
He called the locksmith, who arrived as soon as they’d finished gathering all the damaged pot plants together. This was definitely going to take them a few trips up and down those stairs. His suit was completely ruined at this stage, but again, he didn’t care. His priority lay in getting these plants to his house. Safe and sound.
They finished their last trip and started putting the plants into his car.
She hesitated. “They’re going to make a mess all over your car.”
“It’s okay. It’s just soil.”
“Really? But you nearly died that first night when I splashed water all over it.”
He sighed and looked at her. “That was before I got to know you.”
“And now?” she asked, lowering the plants into the car.
“Now, you can mess up my car as much as you like.”
