The Difference

Chapter 23

I wake up the next morning to the sound of  music blaring through the house. Grabbing my phone, I realize it's only 8:00. I groan and notice Ava texted me. 

"Brad and I have to sample desserts for the ball, would you mind meeting with the florist to make sure the flower arrangements look okay? She's expecting you at 10! Thanks!" 

Rolling out of bed, I go to see what Troy is doing playing what sounds like old 90s hip hop music throughout the kitchen. 

"Hey baby, didn't want to wake you," he says and I laugh at the irony.

"It's okay, you didn't. Your music did, though." I walk past whatever he is cooking and head straight for the coffee. I reach up for my favorite mug and he instantly wraps his arms around my body, beginning to kiss my cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in my ear. I turn around to face him. 

"It's fine. Let me make my coffee. And turn the music down, we have neighbors," I say and realize how grumpy I am in the morning. Troy chuckles and obeys me, silently going back to cooking scrambled eggs. I sit on the countertop across from the stove and sip my coffee carefully. Troy serves the eggs, toast, and hash browns to the kitchen table before asking me if I want juice, too. He frantically runs back to the counter when he realizes he wanted to chop up some fruit, too. I stay in my spot on the countertop and stop him with my feet as he tries to get by. He sighs and looks at me. 

"Are you good, hun?" I question. He sighs again and shakes his head. "Let's talk," I say trading my coffee mug for one of his hands. 

"I just want to be someone who's good enough to be seen with you, Rosemary," he says, catching me off guard.

"Troy, you are! You're sweet, funny, smart.. I mean, you just made me a whole breakfast!" I say trying to reassure him.

"But you and him have history."

"What?"

"You and Eric. You have history. You have so many photos with him plastered throughout the house. Even Ava is in some of them! It's like you guys have it all figured out and I just complicate everything."

"Where is this coming from?" I question.

"I'm just afraid you deserve better than me, I guess."

"I want you. Only you. Eric is my best friend. Yeah, I liked him, I even thought I loved him, but then I met you. And now, nothing matters, but you."

"My family isn't going to make it easy for us. And if you were going to come with me, I'm not sure what would even happen-" 

"Shh," I say, noticing he is on then verge of a breakdown. "It's you and me, okay? We're in this together."

"You and me," he repeats back to me. I nod and he grabs my hand, pulling me down off the counter.

"If it were easy, it wouldn't be meant to be, would it?" I question and he smiles at me. "Now, let's talk flowers!" 

Once Troy and I eat our breakfast and get our spirits up, I convince him to come with me to see the flower arrangements for the ball. He does a little bit of groaning but I promise him once we finish we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever he wants. He ponders for a second and finally, he agrees. I give him a grateful hug before running to my room to shower. I come out 30 minutes later in a black turtle-neck long-sleeve shirt, a tan high-waisted skirt, black tights and my signature pink manolos. Troy gives an approving nod, but says, "Bring a pair of sensible shoes for later on." I smile and wonder where he's going to take me, but I grab a pair of boots in the meantime. 

"Ready?" He asks me, standing by the door. I take in his navy blue pants, white button-down shirt and his signature loafers. Grabbing my light pink peacoat, I give a nod, and we head out.

We sit down with the florist and Troy is in a daze as we discuss different types of flowers and the many options I had already specified which the florist wanted to double check. She brings out a sample bouquet for the centerpiece of the tables. A clear, round vase full of white peonies, lavender colored roses, small sage accents, silver ragwort to add some more green, and a few pieces of deep purple lavender flowers. I'm grinning as wide as I can when I see how elegant the centerpiece looks. I look over and even Troy is impressed by the flowers he cannot name, and I know they are perfect. We finalize the centerpieces and the florist shows me her idea to use the same colors for the trellis decorations Mrs. Marigold requested, along with some light pink peonies and roses. I give my approval to the florist who is ironically named Rose and she gives us a time frame to pick everything up on Friday. We give Rose our thanks and head out. Troy requests we pick up his car before we carry out his plans for the rest of the day. I agree because I promised him, and we pack into his Stingray in silence. He connects his phone to bluetooth and puts on some more of his old-school hip-hop music. I shake my head and snatch his phone, going through his music library. 

"Now, this is music!" I say, selecting "Country Girl" by Luke Bryan and turning the volume up.

"Oh, my girlfriend is a country girl, huh?" He questions.

"Absolutely! Ava and I have always dreamed of visiting Nashville!" I say in between singing. Troy speeds up and I laugh at the thrill of it. We pull into an empty parking garage and I check the time. Noon. Troy continues to drive upwards through the empty garage and I don't ask until he finally stops on the roof. He grabs my bag for me after opening my door and helping me out. I turn around and there's a private jet behind us.

"Is that..."

"Ours?" He cuts me off. "Why yes, it is."

"Well, where are we going?" I question.

"You said you've never seen Nashville, right?" He questions.

I start to laugh which makes me tear up. "No way!" 

He laughs along with me and takes my hand. "So, what do you say?"

"I say yes! Let's go!"

We begin to walk toward the jet as Troy lifts me up and carries me up the steps to board. He tells the pilot where we are planning to go and they exchange a few words, catching up, as Troy is still holding me like a child. I thank the pilot, trying to break the awkwardness, as Troy acts like nothing is out of the ordinary. He finally puts me down and we settle into the cozy seats.

"So, you have a private jet, too?" I question.

"Too?"

"Well, an empire in a foreign country, four beautiful cars, a mansion here in Virginia, plus a private jet. What else?"

"My Dad has a boat. Well, had," he says, getting quiet. I lean my head on his shoulder and he smiles at the comfort. 

"He's still here," I say, holding a hand to my heart.

"He tried to save me from all of this. Now, no one can." I'm quiet as I realize he really doesn't want any of the nobility that comes with being a Marigold. "I just want to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go," he says. I smile. "Whether you come with me or not, things won't be the same as they are now. I just want to make memories with you," he says, leaning in for a kiss. 

"I know I haven't given you an answer yet, but I promise you, even if we are doing long distance for a while, you'll still have me."

"What if I get sick of you before then?" He jokes. I roll my eyes and lean toward the window of the jet, looking out. He wraps a tight arm around me and I lean back into him. He hits a button on the remote in front of him and instantly a list of movies appears. 

"Any movie requests?"

"Whatever you want," I say cooly. He puts on Dirty Dancing for me and I realize I've found my soulmate.