Page 22 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"That thing where you stare into space and look like you're planning someone's murder." He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "What's going on, Viv? And don't tell me it's nothing. You've been weird ever since you gave that flash drive to the detectives."

I sighed, tossing the rag into the sink. "I'm just tired." Jamie gave me a look but before he could say anything I cut him off.

"How about I take the funeral home today?" I say, trying to sound casual, and change the subject, "Give you a break from the grim stuff."

"Give me a break," Jamie echoes, raising an eyebrow. Though I could tell he knew I switched the subject on him, and was letting it go for now. "What’s the real reason?"

"Just figured you could use some time with the living. It’ll be a nice change for you." I grin, but it doesn’t reach my eyes, and I hope he’s too distracted to notice.

"I see how it is," he teases. "Sticking me with all the heavy lifting again."

"Exactly." I pack a vase into a box, sealing it with tape. "Wouldn't want you to strain yourself with all those flower stems."

"You got me all figured out," he concedes, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Fine, you take the delivery. I’ll hold down the fort and do the real work."

"Glad we’re clear on who’s boss," I say, trying not to feel the ache of leaving him out.

Jamie winks, handing me a clipboard. "Just remember, you promised to be back in time for lunch. Thai food doesn’t order itself."

"I’ll be back," I promise, wishing it were that simple with everything else. Wishing it were just this easy.

“And if you want to talk about it at lunch, I’m all ears..” Jamie told me, making me pause and withhold a sigh knowing he knew that something was off with me, “But if you don’t want to talk about it I am here when you are.”

I gave a small smile and went on my way to load the van up. The drive to the funeral home takes longer than usual, or maybe it just feels that way I find myself checking the rearview mirror obsessively, looking for cars that might be following me, for faces that seem too interested.

Is this what it's going to be like now? Living with this constant hum of fear under my skin?

I pull into the funeral home's parking lot and sit for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel. The building looks innocuous in the morning light—just another place where people come to say goodbye to their loved ones. Not a place where Alphas tackle Omegas to the ground. Not a place connected to missing scientists and dead Omegas.

Just a building. Just a delivery. Just another day.

I take a deep breath before I stepped out of the van, reaching for the arrangement in the back seat. The weight of it feels reassuring in my hands—solid, real, uncomplicated. I lock the van and head toward the entrance, focusing on the simple task ahead: deliver flowers, get signature, leave.

The funeral home is quiet today, the lobby empty except for a middle-aged Beta woman sitting behind the reception desk. She looks up as I enter, her smile professional and practiced.

"Good morning," she says. "How can I help you?"

I hold up the arrangement. "Delivery for the Matthews service."

She nods, checking something on her computer. "Of course. They're in the East Room. You can place it on the display table near the entrance."

I follow her directions, grateful for the simplicity of the task. The East Room is somber and tasteful, with muted lighting and soft music playing in the background.

It didn’t take long for me to finish arranging the flowers. I quickly made sure everything was in order, my full focus on the flowers, not noticing anyone around me till I heard someone clear their thoughts. I jumped, a small yelp leaving my lips as I turn around.

Reeves was leaning against the frame like he owns it. "Going somewhere?" Reeves asks, that infuriating smirk crawling up his face.

"Delivery's done," I snap, recovering. "Unless you're ordering funeral flowers for yourself."

He grins, stepping closer, and the door shuts behind me like a trap. "I'll give you points for creativity,Vivian."

I force myself to hold his gaze, my insides a tangle of anger and questions. "Are you stalking me now?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he shoots back. "After all, you keep showing up where I am."

I narrow my eyes, trying to cut through his sarcasm, "Maybe I just have terrible luck."

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