“Fragile how?”
“Not like a flower, like a bomb.”
My eyes widen. She sure as hell didn’t seem like a grenade.
“She’s been through hell is all. And so, I make sure to look out for her.”
“Okay…” I say. “Do you think I could talk to her? I—”
He cuts me off. “Look, it’s a bad idea, okay? Just leave well enough alone.”
Frustrated, I shake my head. “If she’s in the back room, can’t she at least be the one to—”
“Fine. Mirabella, you here? This guy wants to talk to you,” he calls out. No answer. “See, she’s not interested.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” I say, dropping the plate in the trash, wondering what the hell is this guy’s deal. I walk to the door, pissed.
As I turn to go, I hear him mutter under his breath. “She’s been hurt enough already. Don’t need a guy like you adding to her trouble.”
Mirabella
I listen to their conversation, up until Tony tells Matt that I’ve been through hell. Tony thinks he’s protecting me, but it just makes it worse. I have been through the wringer, but it’s my story, not his.
I leave through the back door, climbing the fire escape stairs and crawling into our second-floor apartment. Suddenly exhausted. It’s not glamorous — our life — but it’s all we know. We grew up in this apartment and unless Tony kicks me out, I’m here for good.
Sitting in the window seat of the street-facing window, I look out below. I see a crow sitting on the power lines, then it takes flight. My heart flutters, wishing I was able to leave this nest. But it’s not easy when my overprotective brother thinks he knows what’s best. I’ve learned it’s better not to argue.
But that was before my eyes locked with Matt’s, before my heart stirred in a way it never had before. Matt and I spoke for what, a few minutes? But in that space of time, I felt hope. And I haven’t felt hope in so long.
I watch the street as Matt leaves the pizzeria, shaking his head, putting in earbuds, and walking away. I wish I knew what he was listening to, wish whatever song was stuck in his head was stuck in mine too. Because all I have to go off of is his name and the fact that he wanted my number.
Why didn’t I take a chance and just give it to him?
I want to leave this apartment, but I’m too scared to fly.
Closing my eyes, I fall asleep, not exactly tired, but wanting to slip into a dream, a possibility of a different life, a different version of myself. Wanting to be the kind of girl who gives the guy her number.
And not just any guy.
Matt.
Because truth be told, he made me feel like no guy ever has before.
He saw me as who I am today — not the girl from before.
Chapter Three
Matt
All night at my restaurant, I can’t get Mirabella off my mind. By the time I close up for the night, I’m ready for a drink. I meet Josh and Grady at O’Malley’s for a pint and tell them about the girl I met.
“What the hell, man,” Josh laughs. “I haven’t even gotten my first date and you’re gonna beat me down the aisle.”
Grady lifts his eyebrows. “You guys sound insane. You know that, right? Love at first sight? It’s not real.”
“Says the guy who owns a flower shop. Seen too many lovesick fools buying roses for their girls, is that it?”
Grady takes a drink of his IPA. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s a home and garden store. We sell fertilizer.”
“That’s bullshit,” I laugh. “Pun intended. But you sell more flowers than you do topsoil.”
Grady shrugs. “Maybe so, but it’s not the customers that have me put off. It’s my mother. God, she’s mentioning grandchildren every damn Sunday when I see her.”
We all laugh, able to relate.
“So, you really hit it off?” Josh asks.
I nod. “Yeah, and I made up my mind. Tomorrow I’ll go back to Sugar and Slice and try harder. Bring flowers. A box of chocolates. A teddy bear. I don’t know what girls want, but I know I want this girl. And I’ll do what I can to get her.”
My buddies shake their heads in surprise as a few more guys from the gym join us. But I don’t stay for another round. My mind isn’t here — it’s on her.
And as I walk back to my place, I can’t help but wonder. Maybe she is the one. Maybe love is on my mind for a reason. Maybe everything is leading up to this.
By the time I get to her pizzeria the next day, flowers — from Grady’s shop no less — in hand, a box of chocolates from the local candy shop under my arm, I hope the gesture will be appreciated. If she’d just give me a chance. And if her brother Tony would too. Damn, that guy had a chip on his shoulder all right.
I push open the door and there she is, coming through the back room. She drops the pizza she’s carrying in a box but manages to catch it before it hits the floor. She laughs nervously as she steps to the woman to the right of her. “Sorry, almost lost it,” she says. The woman thanks her before turning to go.
And then, just like that, we are alone. At last.
Mirabella
Matt came back. Like, actually came back. And he has roses. Actual red roses and a box of chocolates and my eyes go wide. This is so much more than I expected. My hand presses to my chest. I feel faint.
But like, actually faint.
My knees go wobbly, and Matt must notice because he drops everything and rushes to me, scooping me up in his arms. He carries me to a bench in the restaurant and lays me down, cradling my head in his hand. “God, are you okay?”
I exhale, blinking slowly. “I think so… You just… surprised me.”
He frowns. “You didn’t think I’d be coming back?”
I breathe him in. He smells like a man, like sweat and sandalwood and a cologne that reminds me of a hike I took once in the Redwoods of California. Not that I’ve been on a hike in years.
“I hoped you would but… I’m not the kind of girl who gets her hopes up too high.”
“And why’s that?” he asks, leaning closer, searching my eyes, as if trying to memorize my very thoughts.
“I know how hard it is when I get let down.” I close my eyes, thinking of the last few years.
“Your brother said you’ve been through hell.”
“Ovarian cancer.” I know the two little words will change the way this strong and capable man sees me. But still, I say them anyways. I’m tired of being half the girl I was. Not saying what I want, what I need. I won’t push this man away. This man who brought me roses and chocolates and who lifted me up, quite literally, so I wouldn’t fall.
“Shit, Bella. You really have been through hell.”
“I’m in remission. Two years. I’ll be okay.”
He runs a hand over my cheek. An intimate gesture, but I don’t shy away from his touch. In fact, my heart slows, my breathing steadies. I welcome it. It’s like I’m ready for it. Ready for him.