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I’m here to check off another thing on our list, but I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.

Why did they trust me with this?

I wanted to do the cake taste-testing first, mainly because I felt sad and wanted to eat cake. But it might be a bad idea to pick out flowers when I haven’t even picked a theme or venue yet.

However, that seems like a big decision, and I’m chickening out by crossing off the smaller tasks first. I wonder if we’ll be able to decide on anything without a concrete theme.

My goal for this meeting with Hayden is to be professional but not overly friendly. I ended up being too comfortable last time and overshared.

“You should buy them.” Hayden’s voice from behind me startles me.

I whip around. He’s dressed in casual shorts today, and a plain white T-shirt that’s cut just low enough that I get a glimpse of a chest tattoo peeking out.

I swallow and quickly look up at his face again. “They’d kill Mortimer.”

“What?” He looks confused.

“My cat. Lilies are extremely toxic to cats.”

“You have a cat named Mortimer?”

“Yes,” I say defensively.

“I like that. To be honest, I don’t know much about flowers. I’ll let you take the lead here.”

I refrain from commenting that he doesn’t have to know anything about flowers to pick out the ones he thinks are prettiest, but I keep my mouth shut.

Men come up with the weirdest shit when they don’t want to help.

We venture inside and are greeted by a man in his sixties with salt-and-pepper hair. His face lights up when he sees us.

“Welcome in. Feel free to look around, and let me know if you have any questions.”

“Thank you,” I say.

The store is small and crammed on the inside but artfully arranged with more flowers than I could possibly name. The walls are covered in the most gorgeous pink marble wallpaper with hanging wooden shelves showcasing unique pots in all shapes and sizes.

I walk to the left. I’m set on ignoring Hayden and focusing on the task ahead.

I check out the colorful array of roses that are tucked in the corner. I’m immediately drawn to the vibrant pink roses, and I wonder how hard they would be to grow in my own garden. But then I remember that soon I won’t have my little garden anymore.

Anxiety rises in my chest, and I try to push it down. This is not the time or place to let my emotions bubble up.

I feel Hayden behind me before he speaks. “Aren’t roses for romantic occasions?”

I don’t even turn around. “No, actually. Red roses are considered romantic, but white roses are popular for funerals. Yellow is for friendship, I think.”

“Interesting.” He picks out a white rose next to me and sniffs it. He grimaces. “Too floral.”

I stare at him. “Did you just say the flower smelled too floral?”

He seems slightly embarrassed. “Well, some of them have more of a sweet scent, or a citrus scent. They’re not all this … floral.”

I decide to ignore him and get back to business. His comment was kind of endearing and funny, but I’m trying very hard to not see him as endearing.

“So you don’t know what type of flowers Darlene likes?”

He shakes his head.