Page 4 of Always Been You

“Keep it,” I say.

“You sure man, I’m sure that wasn’t meant for me.”

“Yeah, I won’t use it.”

He leans forward on the table so that he is closer to me, and he drops his voice. “You good, man? When was the last time you got laid? I haven’t heard any of your stories or seen you with someone in a while.”

Honestly, the thought of sleeping with anyone right now has my stomach tightening and bile rising in my throat. I’ve done a few one-night stands over the last few years, but that’s it. Even though I know Olivia is in a relationship now and I want her to be happy, I can’t even think about anyone else right now. Seeing her again has reignited something in me. I don’t know what to say to Matt, so I go with a partial truth.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just been busy lately. Haven’t been interested.”

“Okay, well, when you are, let me know and I’ll wingman for you, just like old times.”

He stands and pats me on the shoulder before he folds the bill and puts it into his pocket. Just past him, I see the server catch him putting the bill in his pocket, and she raises a brow. She doesn’t look upset, just intrigued.

I stand too and pull him into a hug, “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

We both walk to the front of the restaurant and head in separate directions. I have a stop to make before I head hometo get ready for Olivia’s party. A few days ago, I ordered her gift online to be picked up at the store down the block from my place. Deciding to walk, I use the time to clear my head. Olivia is moving in with her long-term boyfriend. Matt is still playing the field like he wants to, and I’m what? I don’t have an interest in a string of one-night stands. Maybe I should have taken the server’s number. She was pretty and maybe she is looking for more than someone to warm her bed for a night.

Before picking up the gift, I duck into the pharmacy to grab Olivia a birthday card. Browsing through all the options, I finally pick one then head to the store. I had it gift-wrapped, so that will be one less thing to do. When I get home, I print off the final part of her gift, write out her card, and seal it before heading to shower and get ready.

Isip my coffeeand admire my new nails as I walk home. I love spring. Wanting to enjoy it, I take the long way home, walking through the park, stopping to take pictures of the water and trees. A light breeze whips my ponytail. I slow and take in the feeling of it on my skin, the smell of the flowers, and the sound of people and dogs around me. Contentment that washes over me, causing me to smile as I stand here. The smile remains on my face as I make my way to my apartment building.

When I arrive at my building, Max, one of our daytime concierges, greets me. I’ve been in this building for a few years and have grown friendly with him. He’s in his late fifties, with salt and pepper hair that nowadays leans a little more towards salt than pepper. He and his wife have lived in the city for a while, and they have two daughters around my age. I always enjoy hearing his stories about them; he speaks about his family with such fondness.

“Good afternoon, Olivia.’ He smiles at me, “I have a deliveryhere for you.”

Smiling back, I join him at his desk. “Thank you, Max. How are you?”

“Oh, no complaints today. How about you?”

“It’s been good. Celebrated my birthday with my brother and a friend earlier. By the way, the girls will be stopping by later this evening. I know they are on my list, but thought I’d give you the heads-up.”

“Not a problem.” He taps the counter before walking around the corner and returning with a glass vase full of red and white roses. My smile widens as he places them on the counter in front of me. “Here you go. Are these from the boyfriend?”

I shake my head, “I honestly don’t know who they are from. I have been getting bouquets on my birthday for years from an anonymous sender.”

“How sweet. Well, happy birthday, Olivia.”

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the bouquet. I head toward the elevators, scanning my fob, I hit the twenty-second floor and head to my apartment.

Matt helped me find this place after I graduated from my program. It’s in a wonderful location, safe, close to the school I work at, and close to Matt, which was a plus for him, not a necessity for me. He is still protective of both Gi and me, even though we are both grown now. I know he worries about Gi being so far away for school, so if it helps him to have me close, I’ll give it to him. Plus, this is a nice apartment.

Walking in the front door, I drop my purse on the entryway table and walk into my living room. I place the vase of roses on the end table beside where I love to sit and look for a card. I find a white card tucked in between a few of the rosebuds.

Happy Birthday Sunshine,

I hope you have a day as amazing as you are.

XOXO

Leaning down, I place my face right into the bouquet and inhale deeply; the smell makes me smile. I take the card, my fingers playing with it, and make my way back to my bedroom and into my closet. Pushing aside some things on the top shelf, when I get to the back, I find the shoe box I keep of sentimental items I have collected over the years. I pull it down and make my way over to my bed and sit on the edge. I open the box and pull out the bundle of similar white cards, all from the bouquets I have received over the years.

It all started on my sixteenth birthday. I was at school and a small bouquet was delivered to me in my first class. It garnered some attention too, as someone walked right into the classroom, called my name, and dropped them off at my desk. Then, it happened again the next two years. When I got to university, they were delivered to my dorm room, and the bouquet was nicer, with more expensive flowers. When I started at my current school, they were delivered to my classroom. Someone would walk them from the front office and deliver them to me. It gained some ‘ohhh’s’ and ‘awww’s’ from my students. Now they are large bouquets of my favourite flowers, red and white roses.

The messages on the cards were all different, but along the same lines. The only thing that was the same was the term of endearment, Sunshine, on all of them, but no one I know calls me that. I still haven’t figured out who is sending them, but I have kept every card. Part of me knows that I should be wary about someone anonymously sending me flowers, but seeing as they haven’t tried anything, I choose to happilyenjoy them. Every year, seeing the flowers sends warmth throughout my body and soul that someone cares enough to send me my favourite flowers on my birthday.

---