Jacqueline stirred awake slowly, her senses pulling her from sleep at the rich, inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The space beside her was empty but not untouched. The sheets were creased, still warm, a silent proof that he had been there… that he had slept beside her.
Her gaze drifted toward the bedside table.
A mug of coffee sat there, steam curling gently into the air.
But it wasn't alone.
Beside it lay a single blooming rose and a neatly folded note.
She reached for the rose first, lifting it to her nose. Its fragrance was soft, delicate and without realizing it, a faint smile curved her lips.
Carefully, she unfolded the note.
Her eyes moved over the words.
Dear Jacq,
I'm sorry for arguing with you last night. I should have been more patient, but I wasn't. Please accept this rose as my apology.
I made you coffee extra strong, just the way you like it.
Yours,
Damien.
She read it once.
Then again.
And again.
