Page 95 of Fighting

I have to prep some bouquets and arrangements. Can you bring coffees here?

Nessa:

Absolutely! Send over your orders <3

A few hours later,I’m sitting on the floor of Rosie’s, wearing myRead More Smutsweatshirt and a giant burlap hair bow. I’ve scattered a mix of printed emails and the notes I typed up yesterday around my corner of the floor.

Delia and Lily take turns picking up random letters and reading me the bullet points I laid out. After the first hour, we have it narrowed down to our top picks.

Millie is unloading a series of dahlia blooms from specialty boxes. She trims the stems before placing them into old ten-gallon paint buckets. “Read us the list,” she calls, grabbing sheers from her apron.

“Okay, Question 1:Flicking the Beanisn’t cutting it.” I read the title we scrawled on the page.

“Preach,” Millie calls, and the room erupts in giggles.

“Don’t think we won’t get back to that,Mildred,my dear,” I say.

“Ouch, who are you? Seth?” she replies then sticks her tongue out at me. There are more giggles throughout the shop.

“Okay, okay. So friends with benefits. Things ended. Now despite their status as ‘president, captain, chairman of the self-love club,’ this listener is struggling to enjoy their timealonethe way they used to,” I say, then place it in the keep pile.

“That tracks,” Delia says, examining a few potted plants near her.

“Those are violets.” Millie points her scissors at them.

Delia gently fingers the petals and murmurs “gorgeous” before turning back to the group.

“Lily, which did you have for her?” Delia asks.

“I’ve got the reformed playboy,” Lily cries.

“Technically, you had the friends-to-lovers,” I tease her, and her cheeks go pink.

Millie asks, “Are we talking romance book tropes or your life?”

“My life,” Lily says at the same time I say, “Both. You still owe me your favorites.”

With a smug grin and a particularly sharp snap of the scissors, Millie lops off the bottom of a stem and plunks the flower into the water. “I’m more of a why choose fan.”

“Okay… that’s going in thestories for laterpile. Both the letter and your answer,” I say.

Outside the flower shop windows, volunteers are stringing up lights across the square. The twinkling around the gazebo and the greenery cast an ethereal glow, like fairies dancing along the branches.

It’s beautiful. If this were a romcom, this is the moment Mateo would appear on the sidewalk, holding large handwritten signs, declaring his love. Or a boom box playing a song just for me. Unfortunately, this is real life, and there’s no point in daydreaming about him sweeping in to tell me that I’m perfect in his eyes. That he’s moving here for good.

Once we’ve put away the questions, we help tidy the shop. We say our goodbyes, and Millie locks up behind us.

Delia and I walk home together, passing one lawn sign after another, each denouncing the Reynolds Group. I’m buzzing, from the caffeine and the sight. They’re printed with phrases likeKeep New Jersey WeirdandKeep PS Prices Affordable to All.

My smile grows, and my steps get lighter. “Good, let those interlopers know how little the people here want their influence.”

Wyclef greetsus as I pull off my boots. Once I’ve hung my coat, I pick him up and cuddle him to my chest. I settle with him on the couch and turn on the TV to fill the silence as I run my hands along his fur.

Unfortunately, none of it quiets my mind.

No, instead, those two voices that have been arguing compete for attention. My thoughts race one after another. About the script I created. About my friends. About what Ema said on Rosh Hashanah. That this year is about trusting others to fill in if I do less. Mateo wanted me to have fun. My friends and even Shaelove when I let loose a little. My work is… meaningful, but in the dark, when I’m alone, I can’t help but sometimes think that it’s also run its course. Maybe it’s time to rethink how much of other people’s trauma I absorb.

But mostly, I keep thinking about the self-proclaimed reformed playboy who fell for someone he never expected to. He called her a smoke show who’s out of his league. He’s been missing from her life, just like Mateo and me.

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