Page 17 of A Field of Beauty

“No! No, I just was thinking of you and—”

“You were thinking of me? So you just thought you’d text me like we were in high school?” He practically spit the words. “Look,this isn’t a game. Do you have any idea how it could damage my reputation with my agent or publisher, with my readers, if they knew about us? You could ruin me!”

“I just ... I missed you.”

“Youmissedme,” he scoffed. “I don’t have time for this. I thought you were mature for your age.”

“I am!”

“You can’t act like a kid and expect to have an adult relationship. Maybe ... we should just call it quits now.” He reached for the door handle and opened the door.

“Wait!”

He stopped and turned to her. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have called you. I won’t do it again.”

He put his hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh. “Look, either you follow my rules or we’re through.”

“I get it,” she said. “I do.” She was practically begging, and a part of her felt disgusted with the desperate sound in her voice. But she hadn’t thought of how she could have hurt his career when she texted and called him. She should have realized! His work was so important.

She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Her whole life revolved around him. Being with him was all that mattered to her. She had let the deadline to enroll in the University of North Carolina roll on by—she didn’t want to leave Sunrise.

He closed the door, came to Tessa, and put his arms around her, holding her close against him. “You’re so young, Tessa,” he said. “You’re so beautiful that I keep forgetting just how young. I’m sorry too.”

And things were good again. That moment was forgotten.

As senior year came to an end, Tessa spent less and less time with Jaime and Claire. Her neighbor discouraged her from spending time with them—he thought they were immature. She wasn’t even sure if her friends realized how isolated she’d become—Jaime was working overtime to help Rose with some summer weddings,and Claire’s full attention was riveted on Chris Reid, her magician boyfriend. She was even acting as his assistant.

Normally, the girls told each other everything. Dreams, hopes, crushes. They planned to have a flower shop together, but they couldn’t agree where it should be. Jaime wanted it to be in New York City, near her “Instagram-crush” wedding planner Liam McMillan. Claire wanted everyone to stay in Sunrise, so she could be near Chris. He was Rose’s nephew, which, Tessa thought, was half the reason Claire was in love with him. Claire wasn’t raised with a mother, and Rose filled that hole in her heart.

The girls were still close. Tessa would confide some of her hopes and dreams with Claire and Jaime, but she didn’t talk about her neighbor’s visits. They felt too private, too special. Jaime, with her single-minded focus on New York City, and Claire, who was so crazy about Chris, would never understand how Tessa got herself tangled up with a married man. She couldn’t believe it herself, but then, she stupidly thought she wasn’t a cliché.

And then, in August, her period was late. She was never, ever late. When she told the neighbor she thought she might be pregnant, he went stone cold. He accused her of trapping him, of setting him up, of trying to ruin his career, his marriage. He told her he would deny her, deny this baby, deny everything. He called her a terrible name, then opened the door of his house and shoved her over the threshold, then slammed the door behind her.

Overwhelmed, distraught, Tessa went straight to Rose’s Flower Shop, hoping Rose or Jaime or Claire would be there. But the only one manning the shop that afternoon was Chris Reid. Somehow, he was just the right one. He ended up saving her life.

nine

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

—Corita Kent

Dawson opened the driver’s side door to the truck and peered at Tessa. When he saw her tears, he climbed in and closed the door. “Look, maybe we can fight this. Gather signatures, have a sit-in at city hall. It’s a David and Goliath story.”

She wiped her eyes with a tissue. “What are you talking about?”

“The same thing you’re crying about.”

“I’m crying because of the chrysanthemum Lovey gave me. It just ... took me back to a time in my life that I try very hard not to remember.”

He shifted on the bench to look at her. “Why?”

“Because it was a time when I made one mistake after the other and ended up hurting a lot of people who had been very good to me.”

Dawson took this all in. His face got serious. “And that’s why you’re crying?”

Obviously. “Yes,” she said. “Why do you think I’m crying?”

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