J.H. 86 | The Inevitable Nothingness

Epilogue

Two Year Later
____________________

Jack

Checking the time on my wrist watch, I mumble a silent fuck under my breath. If I wasn't quickly, I'd miss my window all together and this whole thing would be pointless. Parks would be pissed, and I know if she were here today, she'd be shaking her head in disapproval for "forgetting her birthday."

Like I would ever.

I push open the doors of the florist I quite often visited on my way to the cemetery, hoping to get flowers Parker would have loved, maybe even blushed over.

I'm surprised when the lady behind the counter isn't Gloria, the grey haired owner of this tiny gift shop, but a new girl entirely. Shes young, maybe my age young, with bouncy brown hair that falls down her back in big, silky curls. Her eyes are this perfectly warm chocolate brown, glowing slightly in the afternoon sun.

The light rays from outside are the reminder I need that I have to hurry up, that the sun was setting and Parker's favourite time of day was quickly fading away.

But today is different, it's her birthday, and I don't want to get her the basic yellow daisies I'd been giving her every week since she. . .

Never mind.

The new girl, brunette brown eye girl, looks up from the bouquet she was twining, eyes wide and hopeful, like I'm her first customer in hours, and then the most peculiar thing happens. A rosy pink blush spread over her freckle coated cheeks. She turns her gaze back to her flowers, chewing on her bottom lip as she sends me a small, shy hello.

I can't imagine why but my heart does a backflip, a feeling I haven't felt since Parker. It's foreign and strange and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I'm painfully aware that it happened, so much so that a blush of my own spreads up the back of my neck.

Hating myself entirely for having any sort of romantic feelings for a person that isn't the girl I swore I'd love forever, I bury the feeling of nerves and instead busy myself with looking at the various flowers and gifts that line the store shelves. When brunette brown eyes looks up a full ten minutes later to see me still staring at the flowers, a deep frown on my lips, she deems it time for her to step in.

Feeling a presence over my shoulders, I crane my neck slightly to glance at her. Shes got a white blouse on, buttoned up modestly with a pair of loose fitting denim jeans that look at least three sizes too big for her. A small navy apron covers her hips and waist, and then I falter, because she's wearing baby yellow converse.

Cleaning my throat, I tear my eyes away, not having anticipated something so small could trigger feelings so deep.

I try to play it cool, though, not wanting to look like a total idiot in front of this girl who I thought was, admittedly, kind of cute.

"Can I help you with anything?" She asks shyly, eyes big and pretty and glistening.

I let my eyes flicker over her for a brief second, before pulling my gaze to her eyes, but if she noticed me openly heart eyeing her, she doesn't say anything. Feeling a little out of my depth, since I hadn't dated in a while, or interacted with women, for that matter, I once again clear my throat.

"Uh, um, trying to find some flowers for a girl," I say awkwardly.

"Girlfriend?" She asks, raising her eyebrows, and at first I think she's being suggestive, but when I look at her she seems genuine, like she means it.

"Uh, she was, yeah," I stammer over my words like a middle schooler, then I realise how that sounds. "Well, she is, she's—it's a long story, it's her birthday."

"Birthday flowers, huh?" She teases slightly, resting the waters.

I nod, scrunching my nose. "I just want to get her something better than basic flowers, you know?"

She nods in understanding, contemplating. "I've been working on a bouquet to pass the time up the front, could be a good option. You wanna see?"

I don't say that I already saw them when I walked in, and that I noticed they were sort of perfect with white and blue and yellow and totally up Parker's alley. Partly because I don't want to look like I was being a creep, partly because I want to drag thing out as long as the sun setting with let me, and I have no idea why.

"Here," she grins, slipping back up to the counter and holding out the pretty bunch of flowers she'd been working on. "Take them, I'm sure she'll love em."

"She would have loved these," I whisper, brushing my fingers over the bluebells.

The brunette girl cocks her head in confusion, but otherwise doesn't say anything.

"They're all yours . . ." Trialing off quietly, I realise she's asking for my name subtly, and for some reason beyond me, I can't fucking wait to give it to her.

"Jack," I smile, holding a hand out for her to shake.

"Jack," she repeats, trying my name out on her tongue like she's trying to decide whether she likes it or not. She places her small, delicate hand in mine, a huge smile breaking out over her features and making my chest ache painfully. "I'm Lyla."

Feeling my heart do a hiccup, I suck in a tiny breath. "Lyla."

We're still holding each other's hand, still staring at one another, and then I see the sun reflect on the back wall of the florist, and guilt washes over me.

"Fuck, I gotta go," I rush out, fishing into my pocket for my wallet and slamming my card on the counter without thought.

"Wait—"

I don't give her time to finish that sentence as I barrel out of the shop, taking the flowers and leaving my card behind, completely by accident.

"You left your—" she's yelling out for me, but when she realises I'm gone, she slumps her shoulders in defeat, glancing down at the black American Express. "Card."

Turning the tiny piece of plastic over in her hands, Lyla feels her chest swell.

"Jack Hughes," she reads aloud, before mentally slapping herself. "No, Lyla. Get it together, the man has a girlfriend."

She leans against the counter with a dreamy expression and pouted lips regardless, daydreaming of his bright blue eyes and sad puppy dog expression.

"Dangerous," she whispers.