Chapter Six

David

"What kind of flowers are you looking for?" The golden-haired shop attendant asks with a pleasant smile. Her sun-streaked golden curls remind me of Tara– or maybe that's just because she's all I've been able to think of in the past few days.

"I want something appropriate for visiting my late friend," I reply, looking around at the gorgeous yet systematic arrangement of flowers.

"Do you have anything specific in mind, sir?" She asks quietly, her smile emphatic as she searches my face.

"No," I replied, clearing my throat lightly. "I just need something… warm. He was a warm person."

She nods, her smile unwavering. "I've got you, sir," she says, then gestures to the tall-legged stools by the shop windows. "Please, wait over there while I curate your order, sir."

"Thank you," I murmur, then make my way to the stools by the window. I settle onto the nearest one, watching as she gracefully moves around the shop, expertly selecting the flowers for my arrangement.

As I wait, I let myself ruminate over the events of the day. I can't believe I almost forgot the anniversary of Harry's death was today. The past few days have been hectic. Dealing with Selina Adams, and her hack job article, has taken up every second of my time. I've barely had the time to catch my breath. Harry's anniversary had completely slipped my mind. Thank goodness I realized in time; that would have been unforgivable.

My mind wanders to Tara and I feel my gut wrench with a familiar feeling of guilt and shame. I haven't spoken to her since I had to rush out after we kissed. I've avoided her, under the guise of being busy with work. Truth is, I've been avoiding her because I don't know how to face her after what happened between us. I am desperate to be with her, but I'm not sure if she wants to be with a man nearly twice her age, who was also best friends with her father. But I'm not sure how much longer I can stay away from her.

Hell, I shouldn't have enjoyed kissing her so damn much… Because now it seems like I can't get my head out of the clouds. My head is filled with thoughts of her even when I try to push them away. The nights are the worst; at least I can bury myself in work during the day, but at night the memories of the kiss come flooding back, haunting me like ghosts in the darkness. I toss and turn, unable to escape the vivid images of Tara's lips against mine, her soft sighs of pleasure echoing in my mind. It's torture, knowing that I've let myself fall for someone who I can never be with.

"Here you go sir," the shop assistant says, her voice breaking me out of my reverie. I look up to see her holding out a bouquet of somber yet elegant flowers to me.

"Thank you," I say, taking the bouquet from her. "What are these called?"

"The bouquet consists of lilies, combined with some delicate baby's breath and ferns," she replies with a polite smile. "This arrangement perfectly conveys warmth, remembrance, and sincerity."

"Thank you," I say again, genuinely grateful for her assistance.

I proceed to pay, making sure to leave a huge tip for the kind shop assistant.

It's late evening by the time I get to the cemetery, so I'm not expecting anyone to be here, but as soon as I arrive, I spot Tara. She's kneeling beside Harry's grave, her head bowed in silent contemplation. The fading light casts a golden glow on her features, illuminating the delicate curve of her profile. She looks so vulnerable, yet resolute in her grief.

In the past four years, I've never run into Tara at Harry's grave although I'm sure we've both visited on this day every year.

Approaching quietly, I stand a few feet behind her, unsure of whether to interrupt her moment of solitude. I can feel the weight of her sorrow because I carry something similar.

"Tara," I call softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She turns her head slowly, her beautiful green eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she looks up at me. The sight of her pain pierces through me, stirring emotions I had long suppressed.

"Hi," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

"These are. for Harry," I say dumbly, then I kneel beside her and place the bouquet on his grave, next to the one Tara brought—lilies, too.

"I'm sure he'd like that," she mutters, looking at me with a sad smile.

"He'd whack me on the head with it otherwise," I say, and she chuckles. Her eyes lock on mine and in that moment, a silent understanding passes between us, a shared grief that transcends words. Then she looks away, her gaze fixed solemnly on the tombstone inscription.

We remain silent for a while, the only sounds are the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze and the chirping of birds.

"I can't believe it's been four years," she says after a while, finally breaking the silence. "The pain… It still feels so raw. I don't think I'll ever get over it."

"Your dad loved you so much, Tara," I say instead. "And he was only happy when you were. You were his little ray of sunshine, remember?"

She nods, then sniffles and chuckles softly. "He always seemed so funny singing that song; You Are My Sunshine ."

A distant memory pops in my head at that moment; of Harry on a sunny summer afternoon swirling a laughing eight-years-old Tara around and singing that song to her, loudly in an off-tune key.

Tara must have remembered the same thing, because we both laugh, hesitantly at first then more freely as the memory envelopes us in warmth. The moment feels bittersweet but also comforting and I'm just so grateful to be sharing it with her.

I don't feel so lonely anymore…

"Want to go sit over there?" I ask, pointing to a concrete bench in the distance. "We can take our time before we head back home."

She nods in agreement and we both walk over to the bench, settling down, side by side. We sit in companionable silence for a while, each lost in our private thoughts. I glance at her, noticing the way the tendrils of her golden hair flutter around her face. I desperately want to reach out and tuck the strands of hair away and just as I'm about to give in to the urge, she turns in my direction and our gazes clash and hold, her gorgeous green eyes swirling with emotions that leave me breathless. For a moment, time seems to stand still and all I can do is drown helplessly in the mesmerizing depths of her eyes.

I wrench my gaze away from hers, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories of the kiss and the guilt of avoiding her afterward. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then return my gaze to hers.

"Tara… I think I owe you an apology for rushing out after our kiss the other night, for not really being around since, you deserve better than that," I say, the words pouring out. I have never been this flustered around a woman before, but my need for her is doing crazy things to me. She is mine, even if she doesn't know it yet.

She nods, looking at me to see if I'm going to add anything else. I want to tell her how badly I want her, but I don't want to scare her away. Finally, she lets out a soft "It's okay."

"It is?" I ask, unable to contain my surprise at her forgiveness.

She nods. "I think so," she replies with a shrug. "I know you're a busy man, running a huge company, and this thing between us could grow into something, but all I know for sure right now is you give me butterflies and make me feel warm… and safe. You don't know how happy I am that you're my first kiss."

"That was your first kiss?" I ask, blinking at her in surprise.

Either the boys in her college are blind or I'm just one lucky motherfucker…

"Don't look at me like that," she murmurs, dropping her gaze bashfully. "I'm not the first or only twenty-one-year-old virgin."

I chuckle softly, feeling a wave of affection wash over me. She looks so adorable with her face all flushed like she committed a faux pas. Something strange and needful curls in my gut, dominant yet elusive all at once.

I've never felt this strongly about anyone before. There're no other thoughts in my head besides my need to kiss her. No more putting off what I need, what we need.

I turn her face to mine and seal my mouth to hers, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer, loving the way she instantly melts into my embrace, her lips responding eagerly to my kiss.

Our kiss is passionate, clearly leading to something bigger, but we abruptly end it, deciding to leave the cemetery and return home before it gets too late.