I didn’t want to leave Los Angeles and return to reality yet, but I knew I had to. The plane ride back to Portland was filled with me sitting in Ryan’s lap and kissing him until my lips hurt to touch. I wasn't ready to let him go. Not after what we had shared. Not after I had opened up to him and felt so completely comforted by the way he had reacted. He hadn’t been angry at my emotions and he hadn’t been judgmental of how I was feeling. He hadn’t flinched when I had mentioned Adam and he hadn’t chastised me for not being able to move on. I’d never been able to open up like that to someone, not even his son. I only crawled off his lap to get into my seat and fasten my seat belt, preparing for the descent back into madness.

Back into life that had become Portland.

I held his hand all the way back to my apartment before he escorted me up the stairs. And the second we stood in front of my door, he wrapped me in his arms and crashed his lips against mine. My back pressed into my front door as I held tightly to the fabric of his shirt. Butterflies soared in my stomach and my heart fluttered in my chest. I couldn't deny my growing feelings for him, not after our beach weekend. And when his lips finally disconnected from mine, I missed him.

Even as I shut the door on his beautiful form, my heart ached to pull him in.

I got on the phone immediately and called Alyssa. I told her to bring two bottles of wine. I needed to talk, to get all of it out and finally get excited over what was blossoming between Ryan and me. My clothes stayed packed in the bag I’d had to purchase just to haul all my things home, and I barely got changed into something comfortable before Alyssa was charging through the front door.

“I’m popping open this wine now and you’re telling me everything!” she exclaimed.

“You don’t even know what I’m about to talk about,” I said.

“All I know is it’s good and juicy. The only other time you asked me to bring this kind of wine over was when you and Adam slept together for the first time.”

“Wait. Really?” I asked as I padded to the kitchen.

“Yep. And if you tell me you’ve slept with Adam, I’m smacking you across the face with this bottle of wine.”

She shook the bottle at me before she popped the cork and dug around for some wineglasses. She filled our glasses and held on to the bottle. I grabbed the opener and the second bottle I knew we would drink that night as well. We made our way out to the porch and drew in a breath of Portland air, and I decided to come right out with it.

“I went away with Ryan this weekend.”

Alyssa sputtered her wine before she began coughing.

“Holy shit. You what?” she asked breathlessly.

I giggled and took a sip of my drink while she gathered herself.

“Where did he take you? When did this happen? I thought we were upset with him? Is that not what’s happening anymore?”

“We were upset with him, but then he withdrew what made me upset,” I said.

“So no more of this ultimatum, deadline bullshit?”

“Nope.”

“And he apologized by whisking you away? Please tell me that’s why he did it.”

“I’m not sure, but I think so? He said he got up that morning and figured the two of us could use a trip away. So after tossing the ultimatum out the window and apologizing for it, he asked me to go to Los Angeles with him.”

“No wonder you look like you got some sun,” she said with a grin.

“It was phenomenal, Alyssa. He booked us this penthouse suite with a private hot tub that overlooked the ocean. And he took me shopping. I kept telling him to stop spending all this damn money, but he wouldn't hear of it. I was spoiled, Alyssa. But that isn’t the best part.”

“How the hell is that not the best part?”

“I opened up to him,” I said.

Her wineglass slowly fell from her lips as her eyes narrowed.

“Define ‘opened up,’” she said.

“I told him everything. I told him about the lunch with Adam and what happened. Alyssa, I told him how it made me feel.”

“You never do that. You hate talking about your emotions.”

“And yet when I started, I couldn't stop. I wanted to tell him. I wanted Ryan to know. After the passionate night we spent tangled up in each other, it all came tumbling out and I couldn't stop it.”

“Pause. What passionate night?”

“Stay with me.”

“Uh-uh. I want details.”

“And I’ll give them to you if you stay with me,” I said.

“That a promise?” she asked.

I shot her a look and she threw her hands up in mock surrender.

“Fine. But I’m holding you to it,” she said.

“I cried in front of him. Full-on, shoulder-heaving sobs. I spoke in this stream-of-consciousness form I’ve never done before, not even while looking myself in the mirror. And it all seemed so natural. No, necessary.”

“What was his reaction to all this?”

“Kindness. Understanding. He opened up to me and told me about his ex-wife. The first time they met. The first time he realized their marriage was going to tank. He related to me, Alyssa. He didn’t degrade me for it. And he held me in his arms until I composed myself, just telling me he was right there and that things would be okay.”

“How do you feel about all this?” she asked. “Because as far as I know, you never even did that with Adam.”

“I didn’t. It was always about his emotional and creative dumps. And I was fine with that, for a time. I guess. I don’t know. None of that seems important anymore.”

“This is big for you, Kylie.”

“I want to be with him,” I said.

Alyssa took time to digest what I’d said as we sipped our wine together. I turned my body toward the view from my balcony and allowed the weight of that statement to settle on my mind. Ryan. That was who I wanted to be with. My heart still hurt. In some respects, I still loved Adam. In some ways, I might always love him. He was my first in a lot of respects. My first love. The first man I’d slept with. My first true bona fide date. A woman never forgot those. But that didn’t mean I wanted to be with Adam, and that didn’t mean it should keep me from being with the man who made me feel beautiful, cared for, and important. He made me feel equal to him.

“You know what I think?” Alyssa asked.

“I’d really like to know,” I said.

But before she could answer my plea, the doorbell rang. I set my glass of wine down and walked inside, not bothering to look through the peephole before I opened the door. The only person I could think it would be was Ryan, and I’d have no issues letting him in with Alyssa there. But instead, I saw a massive bouquet of flowers obscuring a delivery man’s face.

“Kylie Baker?”

“That’s me,” I said.

He thrust the flowers into my hand before making me sign on some electronic device he had.

“Have a great day,” the man said.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, flowers. Are they from Mr. Tucker?” Alyssa asked.

I kicked my door closed and walked over to my coffee table before setting them down. I plucked the card from the top as a massive smile crossed my cheeks. The man was insatiable. Crazy and reckless with his money.

But when I opened the card, my smile faded.

“They are,” I said.

“What’s wrong?” Alyssa asked.

“Nothing. Just the wrong Mr. Tucker,” I said.

“Those are from Adam?” she asked. “Wow. He must’ve gotten someone to help him pick out the bouquet.”

I tossed the card down and groaned. Why was Adam pulling out all of these stops now? Never in the entity of our four-year relationship had he ever sent me flowers. Or call me up randomly to have lunch. Or sit down with the explicit purpose of talking to me about how he was feeling. Why now? Why was he suddenly doing all of this once he had lost me? Once he had broken up with me?!

“Why the hell is he trying now?” I asked. “I mean, look at these. They’re gorgeous!”

“Does a bouquet of flowers with a note attached to it change how you feel?” Alyssa asked.

“No, but…fuck! It makes me angry.”

“You know deep down the two of you never clicked like you needed to. Maybe in the beginning, sure. But not now. These flowers? They don’t mean anything. Just a vain attempt at a man trying to get you back after realizing what he lost. And you never know. He might be doing this simply because you’re with his father.”

“Adam’s not like that,” I said. “This is him actually trying.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, you just confessed to me that you want to be with Ryan. Are you telling me some pretty flowers delivered randomly with a note, which obviously doesn’t affect you, somehow changes that vulnerable statement out there?”

“Then I need to talk with him,” I said.

“Talk with who?”

“Adam. I need to tell him, while looking him in his eyes, that I don’t want him, that I have no intention of ever going back to him. He gave me the courtesy of sitting me down in that diner and pleading with me to come back. The least I can do is give him the same courtesy of telling him in person that this isn’t happening.”

“Do you want me here for that?” Alyssa asked.

“I won’t do it tonight. I’m too riled up with emotions still from my weekend. But I do need to call him,” I said.

“Want me to stay for that?”

“How about I give you some money and you go get us some Indian food from that place down the street? I still want my best friend for a little while longer.”

“Nope. Dinner’s on me. I’ll take the long way too.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I picked up my phone and dialed Adam’s number. And just as Alyssa left my apartment, he picked up his phone. I heard the excitement in his voice, how proud he was of those flowers and the rush delivery he had put on them. It made me wonder about Alyssa’s statement. Had he somehow known that I’d been with his father all weekend? Was that the reason he sent me flowers?

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t change why I needed to talk to him. I invited him over for a Monday evening meeting, telling him I really needed to talk to him.

Then I hung up the phone and drew in a deep breath.

Flowers didn’t change a thing. Flowers didn’t change someone’s want for their future.