I press my forehead to his, my hand settling over his chest.
“Just Hayden. The man who wants something for himself. The man I love.” I pull him into a kiss, letting anything else I wasn’t able to say pour into the slow, certain press of our mouths. The ache I’ve been carrying since the moment we fell apart feels like it’s finally loosening, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.
Together.
When I finally pull away, there’s a quiet smile on his face. “I love you, Levi,” he says, his voice a whisper. “I love the way you’ve pulled me into the light and shaped my life in ways I never dreamed I’d get to experience. You showed me how to love the things I never thought I was allowed to. Even myself.” He kisses me again and again and again, emphasizing the wordloveover and over with each touch of his lips.
I breathe in deep, trying to swallow the lump he’s cemented in my throat.
“Sunflowers, too,” I manage, smiling against his lips. “Careful, next thing you know you’ll be making gift baskets or smiling at customers. People will talk.”
His smile is full and beautiful and perfect against mine. “Who am I, even?” He laughs, soft and disbelieving, like he can’t recognize the man he’s become.
The sun sinks lower, casting a golden glow across the entire greenhouse. His shadows curl around us in soft, slow arcs, darkness and light folding into the same quiet space as the plants and flowers come alive.
“I love you, Funeral Guy,” I say, nuzzling into the hollow of his neck.
We lean in again, the kiss slow and deep. The kind that builds from your toes. And as I wrap my arms around his waist, I feel Hayden in my arms, breathing soft against my skin. It’s peaceful and thrilling. Calming and chaotic. Every contradiction settling into perfect clarity.
And surrounded by the life of the garden and the blanket of Hayden’s shadows, I know that we’re finally home.
This is everything.
This is where we start.
This is where we grow.
Epilogue
Hayden
Six Months Later
It’s funny howquickly things change. How a life once built on solitude shifts, gradually, then all at once, until what was once unimaginable becomes ordinary.
This morning, it’s Levi’s forgotten lunch. He’d left it neatly packed on the counter, next to the pot of coffee we’d shared before dawn. When I noticed it there, wrapped carefully in parchment paper, his handwriting scribbled on a sticky note,Don’t forget!, I knew I’d be stopping by Full Bloom later today. Not that I minded.
The flower shop has become even more of an extension of Levi himself: vibrant, open, always bustling. Every visit, I’m struck by just how fully he’s infused himself into this space. He greets customers by name, remembers favorite flowers and anniversaries, and effortlessly offers advice, whether it’s about gardening, floral arrangements, or the best way to coax stubborn daisies into blooming.
As I step inside the shop, the bright fragrance of freshly cut flowers envelops me, instantly familiar and comforting. Behind thecounter stands Tripp, Levi’s newest hire, who hefts a large stack of pots effortlessly into the air. Mid-twenties, sun-kissed hair, biceps that suggest he spends significantly more time hauling bags of soil than dealing with paperwork. While Levi swears Tripp’s hiring was purely based on his garden expertise and rapport with customers, Dominic insists that the decision was entirely influenced by the way Tripp fills out his jeans.
Either way, Tripp’s quickly become an undeniable fixture at Full Bloom, charming regulars and impressing everyone with his intuitive knowledge of plants and soil. And, evidently, he’s become the primary attraction for Dominic and Elijah, who now make suspiciously frequent visits to the store under the guise of their newfound passion for horticulture.
“Morning, Tripp,” I greet him, holding up Levi’s forgotten lunch bag. “Is the boss around?”
“Hey, Hayden!” Tripp replies warmly, leaning against the counter in a way that explains the fuss. “He’s out back. Naomi’s here on her weekly filing-system crusade.”
I chuckle softly, glancing toward the back room. Naomi’s internship ended months ago, but that hasn’t stopped her visits. Apparently to rescue Tripp from paperwork disasters, though I suspect it’s to ensure her filing system survives a Tripp-and-Levi combo of chaos. She’s also become a core member of the community garden, often bringing her friends along, their passion and hard work making it impossible not to appreciate their constant presence.
As I move toward the back, I spot Dominic and Elijah loitering conspicuously near a display of potted ferns, clearly more invested in sneaking glances at Tripp than shopping. Dominic elbows his husband, whispering something urgently, and Elijah quickly straightens, offering an overly enthusiastic wave in Tripp’s direction.
“Subtle,” I murmur dryly as I pass them.
Dominic grins, not a sign of embarrassment on his face. “We’re here for the plants, Funeral Guy. Purely botanical interests.”
“Right,” Elijah adds, nodding solemnly. “Very serious horticulture enthusiasts now.”
“Mm-hm.” I shake my head with quiet amusement and step into the back office. Levi leans against the desk, arms folded, wearing a patient expression while Naomi dramatically gestures at a cabinet haphazardly overstuffed with folders.
