to the ground, leaving only flecks of ash behind?
Her future as she’d imagined it was gone forever. It could not be fixed.
He had not chosen her.
She would later exaggerate, telling people it was inner strength or her great faith that propelled her forward into the unknown. She had no such strength, no such faith. What she had was the desperation of having nothing ahead of her and the total decimation of a dream behind her. Elly closed her eyes and banged her skull against the headrest. She saw them again, his face elated with joy, his green eyes flashing up at the woman on top of him, a bead of sweat running down her naked spine. The mane of red hair.
Tears threatened to fall again.
Push it down.
With that thought, she made the decision, turned the key, her heart still shattering into sharp, jagged pieces. Elly shifted the now-trembling car into first gear and turned around on her cul-de-sac. She propelled the car onto the road that led out of her perfect neighborhood, turned northwest, and headed for the freeway. She found her favorite station and cranked up the radio, not wanting to hear the whispering voices in her head. And then she drove, and drove, and drove. With the sounds of easy-listening music mingling with her wrenching sobs, Elly drove until the sun set in front of her.
She refused to look back.
Chapter One
Clayton, Missouri, present day, well past daybreak, this time at a civilized hour in the morning.
Posies, a high-end floral shop in the wealthy suburb of Clayton, Missouri, on the corner of Wydown Street, was owned and operated by one Elly Jordan. These days, when she awoke at seven to the sounds of an obnoxious radio deejay and lifted her head weakly from the pillow, her first thought was of work.
It always was, these days. She lived and breathed for Posies, and at times it seemed everything she thought about or did revolved around her shop. Honestly, it was pretty pathetic. Of course, most mornings she went back to bed for another hour or so after the alarm went off, but eventually she would descend from her tidy apartment to the store below, her bright blue eyes glazed over with sleep, her flip-flops smacking the stairs as she flipped on the lights, a toasted breakfast tart hanging out of her mouth.
It never failed to make her heart swell as she looked around Posies and knew that all of this was hers. For just a minute, she enjoyed the warm breeze fluttering through the windows, and tried to enter into a peaceful Zen-like state. It never worked, so Elly gave an amused shrug and started her morning routine anyway. She began with a quick cleaning: the windows, the design table, and the front door all got wiped down and things were put into their correct places. She pulled open and swagged the curtains, and picked up any leftover stems or dropped leaves off the carpet. This morning, after she made sure that the cooler temperature had stayed steady as she snored the night away, Elly grabbed a small arrangement of orange ranunculus and plodded out the front door, finally ready to face the world outside of Posies, which was so warm and safe.
She walked up the block and entered Ada’s Coffee. Brita, the ridiculous barista, greeted her with more sunshine than Elly was prepared to handle.
“Good morning, Elly!” she chirped.
Elly nodded tiredly in return and suppressed an eye roll. She was not her optimal self before 10:00 a.m. Mornings were rough. She set the flowers on the bar, almost knocking over a steaming latte, and took the old vase filled with decaying veronicas and bachelor buttons, and stuck it under her arm. There was a spot of coffee on her blouse. The barista looked over at her.
“Elly! You are so funny! Every day when you come in here you either spill something or have a stain on your shirt! It’s like you’re a toddler. I think it’s adorable.”
Elly sighed.
“Good morning to you, Brita.”
The barista smiled brightly.
“Hot chocolate today?”
Elly nodded.
“Yup. Same as yesterday … same as every day.”
Amnesia, thought Elly. Brita beamed at her.
“Those flowers are sooo amazing. I just love looking at them. You must love your job.”
Elly cringed inside.
“Yeah, I do. But it’s not always just flowers and—”
The front bell chimed and Brita jumped to the welcome.
“Hi! Welcome to Ada’s Coffee!”
Elly was still finishing her sentence and suddenly found herself talking to no one. She hated when she was caught trailing off alone. Awkward. She sighed and looked around the coffee shop, taking in dozens of couples enjoying their morning brew. It was here, two years ago, that she had met her best friend; it was here, that she had decided to stay. She inhaled the rich aroma of burnt beans and was taken instantly back those two years, to the day that changed her life. The day she met Kim.
Elly had arrived in St. Louis exactly two days after her overly dramatic departure from Georgia. Eyes puffy with tears and travel, hair a ponytailed mess and her mind in tatters, she somehow steered her way into an upper-class neighborhood coffee shop and ordered a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. She looked around anxiously. All she truly wanted was to get back into her car and drive until she collapsed. An adorable blond girl behind the counter looked at her, confusion written across her pretty face.
“Extra whipped cream. Really? Do you know it already comes with whipped cream? That would add about 100 calories.”
Elly snarled and heard a muffled laugh behind her. Ready for an argument that she would no doubt win in her crazy state of mind, she spun around and came face to face with one of the most stunning women she had ever seen. She let out a low gasp. Long brown hair with golden highlights flowed over tan freckled shoulders, and big sea-glass eyes with thick mahogany lashes peered out from a flawless, makeup-free face. She was as tall and lean as Elly was short and, well, somewhat rotund. Instantly intimidated by such beauty, she whirled back on the counter girl.
“Do you have a problem with that? Do you have a problem with people who order extra whipped cream?”
The girl looked taken aback.
“No, no ma’am, it’s fine.”
She looked at Elly with the kind of pity reserved only for the chubby and dirty. Elly was about to attack when she felt a cool hand on her shoulder.
The beautiful woman whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, it’s not you; I come here every day and Einstein behind the counter here gets my order confused every … single … time.”
Elly’s anger melted. For the first time in forty-eight hours, she smiled.
Elly got her hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream piled haphazardly across the top, and sat down at a small table by the window. She was startled when the radiant woman sat down across from her like they were old friends.
“Hi,
