Personally, I wasn't overly particular about the flowers for my own wedding. I chose roses, daisies, gardenias, and daffodils, among others, and knew exactly what I wanted before visiting the flower shop, specifying the quantities I needed.

However, many women who come in tend to expect the best and often request more or express dissatisfaction even when we provide excellent service. I then donned a white apron with the store logo in the corner.

"When are they scheduled to arrive?" I inquired.

"Around one, just an hour before your break. Is that alright?" Giselle confirmed. I nodded in agreement, and together, we began our work. Throughout the morning, several customers entered the shop, with the majority of them being men. Contrary to popular belief, it's often men who purchase flowers, whether for dates, anniversaries, or family occasions.

Women typically come in for weddings, to buy flowers for friends, family, or decorations, as you don't often see women buying roses for men. It was heartwarming to witness couples exploring the shop, reminiscing about Hayden and the times he would buy me flowers for our anniversary or whenever I felt down. He even surprised me with flowers on our very first date. I quickly shook off those thoughts, banishing memories of Hayden and our shared moments from my mind.

A woman entered the shop, striding confidently in a business suit and elegant black pumps. She clutched a phone in one hand, engrossed in texting, while her other hand grasped a fancy black purse. Despite having once been married to wealth, I remained unfamiliar with the world of expensive purses and luxury items. Hayden knew that I despised flaunting wealth, which is why I always opted for casual clothes from affordable stores that suited my style.

It was not the same style the woman embodied. "I'm here for an appointment regarding my wedding," she stated with a firm and assertive tone. Her voice reminded me of how Hayden used to talk to everyone except me, or when our love had faded during our marriage.

"Certainly. Please follow me," I replied, gesturing for her to follow as I led her to our meeting room. We both took a seat around a white table, and Giselle joined us shortly after, sitting next to me.

"Hello, I'm Giselle, and this is one of my employees. I understand you need flowers for your wedding. Do you have any preferences in mind regarding the type and quantity of flowers?" Giselle inquired professionally. The woman nodded, opening a folder and presenting a selection of flowers that seemed oddly familiar.

"I would like these flowers, and I'll need a few thousand of them," she declared. Giselle and I examined the photos. The woman's demands were quite extensive.

"And what colors do you require?" Giselle asked.

The woman replied, "I need them in white, blue, purple, yellow, and orange." Giselle jotted down the details in her notepad.

"Very well. These flowers will come at a significant cost. The total price for them will amount to a few thousand dollars," Giselle stated. The woman simply nodded, unaffected by the price. Giselle made further notes in her pad.

"When would you like the flowers to be ready for pickup?" Giselle asked. The woman paused, contemplating her response.

"I'd like them to be ready in about three weeks, but five weeks at the latest. My wedding is next month, and I want everything to be prepared," she replied. Giselle and I acknowledged her request with a nod.

"Is there anything else?" Giselle inquired. The woman shook her head, and we all rose from our seats, exchanging handshakes. As the woman departed, a sense of relief washed over me.

"That woman is quite intimidating," I confided in Giselle, who nodded in agreement.

"She needs to relax. I hope the man she's marrying matches her temperament, or else I pity him," Giselle remarked. I nodded. The woman didn't seem to exude any joy or lightheartedness, much like Hayden. He always carried an imposing aura that intimidated others.

However, he would reveal his gentle side to me and would laugh freely when away from work or situations that threatened his image as a stern CEO. At times, I wondered if his kindness toward me was merely a façade, if he truly loved me.

"Well, let's ensure we handle the flowers properly and keep them in perfect condition. I must admit, I'm not a fan of weddings," Giselle said as we exited the meeting room. I nodded in agreement. My own wedding was significant but not extravagant. I opted for an outdoor ceremony because I adored nature-inspired weddings. The venue was beautiful, and the candlelight and carefully arranged lighting created a stunning ambiance as darkness fell, captivating everyone present.

I shook my head once again, determined to push away the lingering memories. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was time for my break.

"It's my break now, so I'll be heading out for lunch. See you in an hour," I informed Giselle as I removed my apron, grabbed my bag and keys, and prepared to leave. Driving towards a diner, I called Dorothy to let her know of our lunch plans. Upon arriving, I took a seat at a booth and patiently waited for Dorothy while perusing the menu.

This diner held a special place in our hearts, and we often frequented it during our breaks or days off. As I scanned the menu, my stomach growled in anticipation. Soon enough, Dorothy appeared and settled across from me.

"Hey, how was work?" she asked, opening her menu.

I shrugged, replying, "It was alright. I had a meeting with a woman who was all business and lacked any sense of fun. She's planning a wedding, and the flower arrangements she requested will require significant effort. Giselle and I will do our best to procure and arrange the flowers. But that woman seemed so stern, it's hard to imagine someone wanting to marry her." Dorothy chuckled at my description.

"Was she really that severe?" she inquired.

I nodded, stating, "Not a single smile from her."

Dorothy burst into laughter, exclaiming, "Damn, I feel sorry for the poor guy who's going to marry her." We shared a laugh, both sympathizing with the groom-to-be. We quickly placed our orders and engaged in conversation about our day, discussing our other friends and making plans for our shared day off.

Since it was a Friday, we had a blast in mind—heading to the mall, enjoying a meal together, and possibly catching a movie. After finishing our meal, I took care of the bill, and we bid our farewells. I made my way back to work, finding Giselle attending to a customer upon my return.

"How was your lunch?" she inquired. I shrugged, replying, "It was fine." Giselle nodded, and I resumed my duties, eagerly anticipating the end of my shift.

Upon arriving home, I noticed Dorothy's absence. She was probably out and about, caught up in some mysterious adventure. I exhaled deeply, making my way to the kitchen in search of comfort in the form of ice cream.

The benefits of an empty house included the lack of parental criticism about my diet and my choice of dining room - namely, the living room. Retrieving a small tub of cookie dough ice cream, I migrated to the couch, flicking on the TV and settling down with my frozen treat.

As I indulged in the sweet delicacy, my attention was devoted to my favorite show, The Big Bang Theory. The show always triggered a smile; its witty humor provided a pleasant distraction from reality.

My mind wandered back to the times when I lived with Hayden. The Big Bang Theory was often the backdrop to our evenings, despite his feigned annoyance. Hayden often complained that the show distracted me from his company.

To add salt to the wound, I would teasingly insist that Sheldon was more appealing than he was. Despite his protests, there were times when he would join me, our laughter filling the room as we shared in the amusement of the series. He was never forthright about enjoying it, though; any inquiries were met with grunts and a swift change of subject. His sometimes girlish demeanor brought a certain charm to these shared moments.

My mind began to drift towards melancholy. I pondered if Hayden ever thought about me the way I did about him. Was I ever a significant part of his life? Did he truly love me, want me? I longed to know if he was content now, without me. I questioned if his life was more joyful without my presence, or if he ever felt a pang of longing for me, even if only fleeting. My heart missed him with a constant, aching throb.

Shaking off the encroaching sorrow, I reminded myself not to weep over him today. My indulgence in ice cream morphed from a simple hunger to a mechanism for coping with my melancholy.

My evening was consumed by the antics of The Big Bang Theory and dreams of waking up once again in Hayden's embrace. I glanced down to find the ice cream tub emptied, a whimper of desire escaping my lips. I craved more - more of the sugary comfort that momentarily eased my distress.

Discarding the empty ice cream container, I wondered what to eat next. I was in no mood to cook, and a sweet craving persisted. A brief search around the kitchen rewarded me with some muffins. My taste buds rejoiced as I bit into the sweet pastry. Indeed, I was eating my feelings, but the taste provided a brief respite from the pain.

Having consumed the muffins, I made my way to bed. This time, there were no tears, and I refrained from indulging in thoughts of the man who had shattered my heart. Instead, my thoughts were focused on the forthcoming day as I drifted off to sleep.

Awakening to the piercing rays of sunlight, I glanced at the nearby clock, registering the early hour of seven in the morning. With a resigned sigh, I rolled over, only to feel the unexpected pressure of an arm draped around me. A wave of alarm washed over me, a brief, panicked thought of being kidnapped. But as I scanned the room, a sense of familiarity set in. It was Hayden's room, our room when we were married.

Turning slowly, I came face-to-face with a slumbering Hayden. My breath hitched in my chest. It was him. Truly him. Tears welled up in my eyes at the sight of him so close, a tangible presence next to me. Hesitant, I reached out, my hand ghosting over his familiar features. The sensation was the same, unchanged. I traced my thumb against his cheek, marveling at the beauty of his resting face, wishing to stay in this moment forever.

Hayden stirred, awakening without me withdrawing my hand. I needed to engrave this moment in my memory. "Why are you up so early? Is everything alright?" His grey-blue eyes, a color I adored, were full of concern. Last time I saw them, they were stormy with anger.

"I missed you," I confessed. His brows knitted in confusion.

"What do you mean? I've been here, all day and night."

Shaking my head while still maintaining the intimate contact, I admitted, "But you weren't. You left me. You shattered me." His response was to take my hand, pressing a kiss to it, stirring butterflies in my stomach.

"I am here, Allison. I will always be here. I can't bear the thought of leaving you. You are mine." His words resonated in the silence.

Tears streamed down my face as I clung to his promise, to him.

"Don't leave me, Hayden. Please. I want to be here with you. Stay with me," my plea was muffled in his shirt as he encircled me with his arms. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here, forever and ever," he assured me.

Pulling back, I scrutinized his face, memorizing every detail. "I love you, Hayden. So much. I love you to the sun and back," I confessed, longing for this moment to never end. His smile mirrored mine, "I love you too, Allison. So much. I love you to the moon and back, and back around." He drew me in, our lips meeting in a fervent exchange that was all too familiar.

Suddenly, my eyes sprung open, the daylight blinding. Frantically scanning the room for Hayden, the crushing realization dawned - it was all a dream. My cheeks were damp with tears. Desperation gripped me as I yearned to return to that dream. His voice, his face, it all felt so tangible. But it was all an illusion, as fake as his love, our marriage, and the affection he showed me.

The sight of an empty space beside me was a cruel reminder. He always slept on the right side of the bed, while I favored the left. It was our routine, a pattern that I still follow. I couldn't help but think that breaking this routine would somehow unravel the world. It's absurd, I know, but it's a vestige of a life we once shared, a piece of a dream that felt too real.

I shake my head in disappointment as I rise from the bed and retrieve some clothes. Making my way to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and the sight is disheartening. Time has taken its toll since I left Hayden. My once auburn brown hair has darkened, appearing closer to dark brown, and my once vibrant amber eyes now resemble plain brown.

Even my fair skin seems lifeless, almost resembling paper. I've also lost weight, shedding the slight plumpness I used to have, which Hayden seemed to appreciate. Shaking my head once again, I turn on the shower, hoping to wash away the memories of him and the troubling dream.

The water cascades over me, but my shower is brief. Afterward, I quickly get dressed and make my way to the living room, where Dorothy is munching on a bowl of cereal. I force a smile as I enter, concealing my sadness.

"Where did you go yesterday?" I inquire, attempting to engage in casual conversation. She shrugs nonchalantly. "Just went to this bar, wasn't really my thing. But I did meet a few guys," she replies. Nodding in response, I take a seat after grabbing some cereal for myself.

"We should head out soon, considering it's our day off," I suggest, my voice masking my inner turmoil. Dorothy agrees, stating her intention to shower and get ready.

She proposes a plan for the day: shopping, followed by a meal, and then catching a movie, leaving the choice of film to me. I nod in agreement, and she heads off to prepare while I retreat to my room to ready myself. Afterward, I check online to see what's currently showing.

A particular movie catches my interest, and I note the screening time with a smile. Dorothy enters my room, all dressed and prepared.

"So, did you find something good to watch?" she asks. I nod, a hint of excitement in my voice.

"I'd like to see a movie called 'How to Be Single.' It starts at ten-thirty, giving us plenty of time to shop first." Dorothy expresses her approval, exclaiming, "Awesome!"

We leave the house once we're both ready, making our way to the mall. Dorothy steps out of the car, and I follow suit. As expected, the mall is bustling with activity. We enter and begin browsing.

"I want to check out the clothing store," Dorothy suggests, pointing in its direction. I agree, and we make our way there, navigating through the crowd.

Inside the store, Dorothy heads to the skirts and dresses section. Personally, I can tolerate dresses, but they aren't my preference. However, in the past, Hayden would insist on me wearing dresses all the time, wanting to showcase my beauty to others. I reluctantly complied with his wishes. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I focus on browsing the shirts instead. I select three that catch my eye, while Dorothy settles on three dresses and four shirts.