Five Minutes In Heaven

You've Punished Yourself Enough

You were enjoying dinner with Rose and your sister, who also decided to join you until they started badgering you almost constantly about Aaron.

You became so fatigued and overwhelmed by their desire for you to commit to a date and talk with him that you finally had had enough.

You stand up, dropping your napkin on your half-empty plate, and turn to grab your jacket.

In surprise, your sister asks, "Are you leaving?"

With a tired sigh, you answer, "I'm not going out for drinks afterward. I'm taking the car, so you two will have to call an Uber to get home. I'm tired. I will see you at home, Tay."

You quickly give them each a peck on the cheek and say, "Goodnight, Rose. Goodnight, Taytay."

They both start to speak, and you hold up your hand to silence them. "No. Not tonight. Maybe next weekend, okay?" You begin to walk away, then turn back. "Oh, not next weekend either. Max and I have Sarah's birthday party to do. Maybe the week after that."

You are leaving the restaurant, glad to be free of them trying to lock you down to a date and time when you would speak to Aaron. Ugh, stop calling him Aaron. He is not your Aaron anymore; he is Falcon, a bird of prey.

None of you knew that Falcon and his business partners were also at the restaurant. They had been given the upper-level V.I.P. section all to themselves.

Parker taps Falcon on the shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, isn't that Lanne?" he points at you as you walk through the restaurant.

Tate overhears and looks where Parker is pointing. "Oh, my, that is her!" he says as he grabs Parker to meet up with you when Max blocks them.

He tries to go around Max. "Tate, stop. You guys leave her alone." He says, directing them back to their seats.

Falcon hasn't taken his eyes off you as you leave the restaurant. Parker waves his hands in front of his face. "Earth to Falcon?"

"Huh? What is it, Park?" he says as he slowly turns his eyes away from your direction. Parker giggles at catching him watching you.

Later that night, much later, you are woken by your phone buzzing. It's a text from Anne letting you know she was too intoxicated to ride home in an Uber, and Rose Petals said she could spend the night at her place. With one sleepy eye open, you tap back 'K' and drop right back to sleep. Little does she know you are too tipsy to text more than that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That Monday, Rose comes rushing in all smiles and excitement.

"It's him! He's here!"

"Him who?" you lay down your pen and turn to Rose.

"HE is here, in the reception room," she exclaims.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you get up to peek out your door. There he is, fidgeting, holding a small bouquet of purple and yellow pansies, your favorite flowers. You wistfully sigh.

"Oh, Aaron . . ." you whisper under your breath.

You stare at his profile, unaware that you are doing so. I loved you once . . . Ugh, stop it.

You silently close the door and, walk back to your desk, and pick up proofreading where you left off. Rose is standing there, waiting.

"So, are you going to see him? He brought the flowers himself this time, and I know they're your favorite," she says, hopeful you will relent and speak with him.

Not looking up from your work, you simply say, "No."

You hear Rose exasperatedly sigh, "Oh, come on. Haven't you punished him enough?"

You slam down your pen and jump from your seat. Rose watches you walk over to the window in your office. She hears you sniffle and knows you're crying. She immediately rushes to you and puts her arms around you.

"Lanne, please don't cry."

You rest your head on her shoulder, confessing, "He was my first crush, my first love, and he'll be my last."

"Then go talk to him, please. You have punished yourself enough, too." Rose pleads with you to talk to him.

You sigh. She tenderly wipes your last tear and says, "Talk to him."

You quietly nod, and she kisses your cheek. "I'll be right back." She scurries out the door to get him.

You check your face in the mirror on the wall and hurry to your desk to try and appear calm, but your heart is racing wildly. You know they are right. It would be best if you finally talked to him.

Rose walks in with the small bouquet of purple and yellow pansies in her hand, frowning. "He must have left, but these were in the seat with a note."

You feel your heart sink. He is gone now, probably never to return. You take the note and flowers she is holding out and sadly smile. You remember the first time he gave you a handful of flowers, and you softly laugh. On one of the school holidays, he had picked them from your neighbor's yard. Needless to say, she was not happy.

"What is it?" Rose asks, curious.

"The first time he gave me flowers, he picked them from my neighbor's yard. I was grounded the whole weekend for it." You softly chuckle at the memory.

You open the note and read, "If you won't talk to me, will you at least talk to Max? Here is his number."

But you already know his number by heart. You and Max had become close after your dearest childhood friend Gigi, his cousin, died during childbirth. Gigi and her husband Andrew had chosen you to be the godmother and Max, the godfather of their baby girl. Her husband sorely needed both of your help after her death, and the bond between you and Max grew. But you both never brought Aaron up, Max, because he felt it wasn't his place, and you because hating him was the only way it didn't hurt.

Max was never one to meddle in affairs of the heart, but if you were together and Aaron was there, too, he would catch your eye and mouth the words, 'Talk to him.' Or, if he were close enough, he would whisper to you, "Talk to him," and give you a gentle nudge in Aaron's direction.

Being stubborn, you would always shake your head no. Now you wish you weren't so stubborn.