Page 131 of Fauxmance

I shook my head then said, "What was that color again?"

Mom looked down at the dress in her lap which perfectly matched the thread. "Canary yellow," she said. "It's one of the happiest colors on Earth, also one of the hardest to wear. It looks best on people with brown, black or olive complexions, washes everybody else out. Hopefully the bride thought about that. I once was in a wedding where we had to wear lime green bridesmaid's dresses with pink poof sleeves, and…yeah. It wasn't pretty."

I swallowed.

"Seriously, sweetheart. Why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"No reason."

She merely lifted a brow.

"It's just…I was thinking about the flowers," I said softly.

"The ones in your room?"

"Yes, Hayden got them for me to celebrate our first day as a couple," I said, reaching out to touch the thread, thinking of the bright yellow blooms. "He said they reminded him of me—which is ironic because now I can't see chrysanthemums without thinking of him."

"That's a nice memory," Mom said gently.

After a moment, I pulled my hand back. "It was." I gave her a sad smile. "Too bad we didn't last as long."

Every day I expected to come home and find the flowers had withered, dying a quick death, like Hayden and my relationship. But no. They really did outlive most flowers. I didn't know if it was dumb or sentimental, but I'd already decided to freeze a few. One last memento of our time together. Something to prove it had all been real.

"I wish I could make it better," she said, and I could tell by her voice and the sincere look in her eyes that she meant it. "I hate seeing you so down."

"I'm fine," I lied.

Mom nodded. "You've basically been living in you pajamas the past three days."

I shrugged.

"And you keep listening to those sad, depressing songs."

"I've always liked sad songs," I said.

"And your eyes keep tearing up."

"Allergies," I said and followed it up with a cough. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm good."

She crossed her arms. "You don't have to lie, Magnolia. I was in love once, too."

"Yeah, but you and Dad were meant to be. Hayden and I…are nothing."

The words hurt even as they left my lips.

Mom's eyes had turned sad. "You and he are something. That's why it hurts so much."

She lifted her hand to my face and brushed away the tears as they fell.

"Feeling down is normal," she said. "Hayden's probably suffering, too."

I scoffed, wiping my face. "I don't think so. He let me go, Mom."

She shook her head. "Trust me, I saw you two together. He's suffering. You can take some comfort in that."

But the thought didn't give me any comfort. I just wanted him to want me in the same way—even though it was very clear that he didn't.

Our doorbell rang, and Mom gave my hand a squeeze before standing up.

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