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“Hey, Sumner, someone’s here for you,” Liya says, scraping half-eaten waffles into the garbage.

“Who is it?”

“That hottie you’ve been avoiding.” She drops the plate in the soapy water, causing a backsplash to wash onto my shirt. “And he’s lookin’ extra yummy this morning.”

My spine straightens while my entire heart jerks into my throat. I have to force it back down before I’m able to answer her. “Did you tell him to fuck off?”

Her eyes roll dramatically to the side. “Just go talk to him. I’ve got this.” She bumps me to the side, sliding on a pair of gloves. “And be nice.”

Groaning, I rinse my hands, patting them dry with a towel.

I’ve been more than avoiding him, and he’s been more than persistent. As the brief flashes of memories come in, I no longer know if what I thought I saw was true. I was fully convinced he’d held me under water. I felt it in my entire being. It didn’t line up though. After I shut myself behind that door, I realized I was completely dry. And then it was like I heard him, like what he said was true, that he was trying to help me. But help me from what?

Nothing has made sense since, and I’ve decided the best thing to do is just shut myself out. It’s not like Rhenn and I were actually friends before this anyway. Maybe he didn’t try to drown me, but he still spent his fair share of time torturing me.

Apart from a few regulars, the dining area is empty. Rhenn stands near the register, watching the floor at his feet.

“You can’t come to my work,” I say, stepping around the counter. As I do, my eyes catch sight of the bouquet he cradles at his side—an array of plants, some thriving with color and vibrancy, while others appear delicate, their leaves sagging as they plead for water.

“I wasn’t sure how else to talk to you. You’ve been ignoring my messages, and you never answer your door.”

I was beyond surprised when he showed up at the pack’s house. Three days in a row. I’ve kept myself locked in my new room, coming out for work and work alone.

“Probably because I don’t want to talk to you,” I tell him, propping a hand on my hip.

He reels back, taking in a noticeable breath. “You look nice.”

“I have water all over my shirt and I haven’t washed my hair in two days,” I answer monotone, glancing at his hand again. “What are those?”

“Oh…” Rhenn looks down as well, tapping the toe of his shoe against the ground. “The wolf said I should pick you flowers. But there’s not a lot of flowers on the way here, and I didn’t know what kind you liked.” He extends the leafy blossoms in my direction.

He talked to Josten about me? And Josten told him to pick me flowers?

Rhenn lowers his hand when I don’t move to accept them. “Never mind. I knew it was a stupid idea.” The bouquet slips from his grasp, landing at his feet as he makes his way toward the door. It opens before he gets the chance to push through, and in steps the rest of his crowd.

Ignoring their laughter, I stare at the plants before bending down to pick them up. Even fallen, the arrangement is beautiful.

Why would Rhenn do this?

“Ay, Sumner, get me some fries, will ya?” Ashen calls, pushing Rhenn, who looks less than thrilled, to one of the back booths.

“I’ll take an iceberry shake,” Moxin adds.

They all pile into their seats, carrying on with their conversation. Rhenn doesn’t seem a part of it. He’s distant, uninterested in whatever they have to say. His eyes hold mine, face impossible to read. I don’t let myself indulge in the contact long, shoving through the swinging door to the back and tossing the bouquet over the counter. Liya eyes the plants, and I give her a look which says Don’t ask.

“He wants your forgiveness,” she says, placing a stack of plates in front of her.

“If he wanted my forgiveness, he would ask for it.”

“He did.” She nods to the floral array. “Lily of the valley is the apology flower. It represents rebirth. Starting anew. He fucked up and he doesn’t know how to make it right. Isn’t necessarily his fault. Men are ignorant to this stuff. I think you should cut him some slack.”

“He’s an asshole,” I remind her.

She shrugs. “At least he’s trying.”

The sound of her footsteps grow faint behind me as she heads for the storage room. Without thinking, I bring the bell-shaped blossoms to my face, breathing them in. A blend of sweetness fills my nose, something so fresh and warm. It evokes the essence of spring, of home.

Maybe Liya is right. He is trying.