Breathless

Chapter 3: The Velvet Touch - March 24 - 25

She slipped back inside her house to plant this second rose beneath the refreshing water she'd poured into yesterday's vase. Now two bright blooms beamed up at her. Bent on sweetening her day. Her eyes perused their beauty for a few moments before she bent to inhale their lush fragrance once more. She was immediately surrounded by that heady rose garden of her dreams.

—

The next morning when she opened the front door, she was greeted not only by happy sunlight dancing on her face but also by another ravishing rose. She didn't even bother to glance around. She knew her gift giver was long gone. She stepped off the porch and reached for that single stem. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around it, rescuing it from its cold bed. The warmth of spring might be in the air, but it had yet to invade the ground beneath her feet.

As she drew that bloom towards her face, she suddenly craved its touch. So she slid the soft petals of this glorious rose across her skin and delighted in their velvet touch. Invading her senses with comfort. The whisper of her mother's warm blanket suddenly seemed to flow across her cheek. Releasing more ripples...

The graze of her mother's fingers sliding across her skin as she brushed her cheek affectionately. Or held her hand as they crossed the street. Or gently pulled a hairbrush through her long, copper tresses. She could also feel the touch of her mother's own locks slipping across her face as she bent to give her daughter a goodnight kiss.

The whisper of her scent was echoed in this bloom. Her mother had always smelled of roses. She blinked as another tear invaded her eye. Was she going to weep two days in a row?

She was immediately brought back to the present as she noticed the cool zephyr kissing her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut. That breeze was welcomed by a heart that felt burned by the stroke of abandonment. She basked in the sweet embrace of nature's breath for a few moments as it continued to flow over her skin.

The day was cool. But bright. Sunlight flooded her front yard. The front yard of the house her mother had left her. A beautiful golden home with a wraparound porch. There was even a porch swing hanging from its ceiling. She used to spend so much time enjoying it. Sailing through the air without a care. Delighting in the gentle give-and-take of its boards as they slid through space carrying her, their joyful burden.

Her gaze turned towards that swing. As her eyes landed on its white slats, she realized that she hadn't sat down on it in over two years. She'd been sitting on that swing when he'd broken up with her. Two years and one month ago. He'd announced that he desired a divorce. And that he was in love. With someone else. Of course, she'd already known that part.

He had told her in her most beloved place. Upon that swing that she had enjoyed from her infancy. The flying seat in which she'd spent hours indulging in daydreams. Mentally living out the adventures described in the novels she so loved. Why had he chosen that spot to break her heart?

Suddenly, she was angry. Furious that she had allowed him to steal her joy in that simple swing. Clutching the rose by its stem, she stalked across her porch and plopped her bottom down on that beloved seat. She planted her feet on the floor and pushed the swing backwards. Then she picked up her feet and allowed the natural pendulum to coast.

Again, she closed her eyes. This time she enjoyed the sweet breeze that flowed across her skin as the swing skimmed through the air. She breathed in deeply. For the first time in a long time. Even more deeply than she had yesterday when she'd inhaled the rose's perfume.

A solid resolve was birthed in her heart in that moment. She wasn't going to allow his bitterness to steal one more minute of freedom from her life. How many sweet breezes had she missed basking in to mourn the loss of a man who had treated her as though she was of little worth?