Eternal Echoes

Chapter Forty-Seven: Michaella's Day of Solitude

Michaella's POV

I woke up to the soft light filtering through my curtains, casting a warm glow over my bedroom. The world outside was already stirring, but today, I had nothing planned. It was a rare, precious day of freedom, with no meetings, no deadlines, and no social obligations. I decided to embrace it fully by turning off my phone. No distractions, no interruptions. Today was for me and me alone.

After slipping into my workout clothes, I laced up my running shoes and headed out for a run. The early morning air was crisp, clearing my mind with each breath. As I ran through the familiar streets, my thoughts began to untangle themselves, the rhythm of my steps helping me find a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a while.

On my way back home, something caught my eye—a small flower shop nestled between two larger buildings. The window display was simple, yet it drew me in. I slowed my pace and stopped to admire the bouquets. Among them was one particularly beautiful arrangement of lilies. Without thinking, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The shop's owner, an elderly man with kind eyes and a gentle smile, greeted me warmly. "You're getting it for yourself?" he asked as I picked up the bouquet.

"Yeah," I replied, returning his smile.

"A beautiful woman like you? Where is your man?" he inquired, his tone light and friendly.

I hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm not with someone."

The old man shook his head slightly, as if in disbelief. "Men are blind these days," he said, chuckling softly. I couldn't help but smile at his words.

As he carefully wrapped the lilies, he suddenly paused, a look of recognition crossing his face. "I remember a man... He used to come here a lot. He always got the best bouquets I had. His girlfriend's name was..." He furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "Oh, right! Michaella."

My heart skipped a beat. "Ohh? Yeah?" I managed to ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yes, he always told me that he loved her a lot," the old man continued, not noticing the slight tremor in my hands.

"Yeah," I murmured, as I handed him the money, eager to leave before my emotions got the better of me.

"But you know," he said, almost as an afterthought, "he hasn't come or ordered for a while. I wonder if they're still together... Oh, sorry, I shouldn't be talking like that."

He handed me the bouquet with a gentle smile. "Thank you, sir," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You're welcome. Have a beautiful day," he replied, his kindness making it even harder to keep my composure.

I exited the shop, the weight of the lilies in my hand matched by the heaviness in my chest. Once home, I placed the bouquet in a vase, arranging the flowers with care, as if the simple act could calm the storm of memories the old man's words had stirred.

I needed to clear my mind again, so I decided to take a long, relaxing shower. I turned on some soft music and let the warm water wash over me, its soothing rhythm matching the melodies. By the time I stepped out, I felt more centred, more at peace.

Dressing in one of my favourite old money outfits—a delicate black dress—I decided to visit the church. It had been a while since I had last been there, and though there wasn't a mass scheduled at this hour, I felt drawn to the quiet sanctuary. Once inside, I sat on a bench, closed my eyes, and prayed. I prayed for strength, for clarity, and for the courage to move forward, leaving the past where it belonged.