8 0 0
                                    

 _____________________________

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

_____________________________

Days passed and she returned to the garden daily

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Days passed and she returned to the garden daily. But this time, he was always there, as if the garden had become a shared space between them.

At first, their meetings were unspoken him sitting silently under the shade of a tree or wandering the pathways while she picked flowers. Over time, though, they began to talk, their conversations slow and hesitant, like the cautious unfurling of petals. He knew the exact hour she'd arrive and every day, he found himself there too.

It felt as though she wasn't just coming for the flowers anymore.

One afternoon, they sat together on an old stone bench beneath a canopy of blooming wisteria. He no longer wore the dark cloak he had always used to obscure himself after she had seen him without it that first day, he decided it was unnecessary around her. A small step, but a significant one. Still, his mask remained firmly in place. She never asked him to remove it, though he could sense her curiosity lingering just beneath the surface.

She broke the comfortable silence between them.

"There's still one question I haven't figured out."

He turned his head slightly toward her. "And what question is that?"

She hesitated, as if gauging whether to speak her mind, then finally said, "Why did you buy all my flowers that day? When they were all here already?"

Her words surprised him, though he didn't let it show. That was the one detail he had intentionally avoided acknowledging, worried it might embarrass her.

"You sell them for a reason," he said simply, his voice calm but evasive.

She smiled, understanding the kindness behind his answer.
"Yes, in my neighborhood, it's hard to make a living" she admitted softly, a trace of sadness in her tone.

"I've never been there," he said after a pause.

"Hmm?"

"To your neighborhood," he clarified. "I've never been there."

The Truth Untold Where stories live. Discover now