Don't Explain

eighteen

The week passed in a blur of routine—work, errands, and of course, spending time with Snowball, who had settled back into his usual playful self. Life felt normal again, but there was a quiet hum of something different in the air, a lingering warmth from that weekend with Prince. It was hard not to think about him in between moments of my day, especially after our late-night conversation.

One afternoon, I was in the middle of catching up on emails when my phone rang. It was the concierge from the front desk of my condo building.

"Miss, there's something here for you," the familiar voice said over the phone.

I paused, slightly confused. "For me? What is it?"

"I think you'll want to see it yourself," the concierge replied, a playful note in his voice.

Curiosity piqued, I put on my shoes and made my way downstairs. When I walked into the lobby, I immediately spotted it—an enormous bouquet of flowers, the biggest I had ever seen. It was breathtaking, overflowing with vibrant colors and delicate petals. Roses, lilies, peonies, and wildflowers all arranged so perfectly it looked like something out of a dream.

My jaw dropped as I approached the desk, my eyes widening in surprise. "These are for me?" I asked, still in disbelief.

The concierge smiled and nodded. "Delivered just a little while ago. Do you need help carrying them upstairs?"

I nodded gratefully, unable to tear my eyes away from the bouquet. It felt like a scene out of a movie—the grandest, most beautiful flowers I'd ever received, standing there waiting for me like a secret message wrapped in petals.

Once back in my apartment, I found the small envelope tucked between the blooms. My heart raced a little as I opened it, recognizing the familiar handwriting inside. The note was simple, but it made me smile.

"Just thinking about you. —Prince."

I held the note for a moment, the sweetness of it washing over me. The flowers were so extravagant, yet the gesture felt deeply personal, like a reminder of everything we had shared in those quiet, intimate moments.

I placed the bouquet in the center of the room, its vibrant beauty filling the space, and I couldn't help but feel a little flutter in my chest. It wasn't just about the flowers—it was the thought behind them, the way Prince had found a way to reach out and touch me in the middle of my everyday life.

The rest of the day felt lighter, brighter, like the blooms themselves had infused my apartment with a kind of magic. I kept catching glimpses of them out of the corner of my eye, a constant reminder of him, of us.

***

That evening, after staring at the bouquet a little too long and letting the warm feelings it stirred settle in, I grabbed my phone and called Prince. I could feel a little flutter in my chest as I dialed his number, the excitement bubbling up before I even heard his voice.

It rang once, twice, before he answered with that familiar, deep tone. "Hey," he said, a smile already in his voice. "I was wondering when I'd hear from you."

I grinned, glancing over at the massive bouquet sitting proudly in the middle of my living room. "I just wanted to thank you for the flowers," I said, my voice soft but filled with genuine appreciation. "They're... beautiful, Prince. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. "I'm glad you like them. Thought it might brighten up your place a bit."

I laughed lightly, shaking my head though he couldn't see me. "Brighten it up? It's like my entire apartment has been taken over by flowers. It's beautiful, but overwhelming in the best way."