Chapter Twenty-Two
The Bouquet in the Wrong Hands
Evening settled softly over the small town.
Clare wiped her hands on her apron, breath slightly uneven.
"I'll go get it now," she told Noah.
Noah nodded. "I'll come."
They had worked later than usual at the café. Clare's part-time church duty had delayed her, and by the time she reached the flower shop—
The door was already closing.
"Oh!" Clare gasped.
But the florist smiled.
"Your bouquet is ready," he said.
She reached into her pocket to pay—
And froze.
"It's already been handed to your friend."
"What?" Clare and Noah said together.
"The tall boy. Brown hair. Walks like he owns the street."
Jack.
Clare's heart dropped.
Noah stiffened.
They paid quickly and rushed out.
Meanwhile—
Jack was walking down the narrow street, bouquet in hand, completely confused.
The florist had stopped him earlier.
"Since you're heading toward Laura's house, give this to Clare," he had said casually.
Jack hadn't questioned it much.
But now, holding a carefully wrapped bouquet—
He felt strange.
He didn't know it was for Daniel.
He didn't know Clare had saved money for it.
He just knew—
Noah had been distant.
And something about this week felt off.
At that exact moment—
Alice walked down the opposite side of the street with her parents.
Her mother noticed first.
"A bouquet?" she whispered.
Alice's eyes lifted.
She saw Jack.
Standing there.
Holding flowers.
Looking slightly serious.
Her heart skipped.
She called softly, "Jack?"
He turned.
Alice approached, her parents close behind.
Her father smiled politely.
"For whom?" he asked, glancing at the bouquet.
Jack opened his mouth—
But Alice spoke first, her voice hopeful.
"Is it… for me?"
The air froze.
Jack blinked.
"What?"
Behind him, footsteps rushed closer.
Clare and Noah.
They had almost reached the corner—
When they saw it.
Alice standing in front of Jack.
Her parents watching proudly.
The bouquet between them.
Noah stopped walking.
Her chest tightened.
Not again.
Not like this.
Alice's mother smiled warmly. "That is very thoughtful of you."
Jack's confusion turned into realization in one sharp second.
He looked past Alice.
And saw Noah.
Standing still.
Expression unreadable.
Suddenly—
Everything made sense.
The distance.
The silence.
The avoidance.
The jealousy.
His grip tightened slightly on the bouquet.
And for the first time—
He understood.
Jack stepped back.
"This isn't for you."
Alice froze.
"It's Clare's," he said clearly. "I'm just delivering it."
Silence.
Clare finally stepped forward, slightly breathless.
"I ordered it," she said softly.
Alice's parents exchanged an awkward glance.
"Oh," her father cleared his throat. "We misunderstood."
Alice's cheeks flushed.
Jack's voice softened, but remained firm.
"I would never play with someone's feelings like that."
His eyes shifted.
Not to Alice.
But to Noah.
"And I wouldn't give flowers to someone without meaning it."
The words hung in the air.
Noah felt her heart skip.
Clare carefully took the bouquet from his hands.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Alice stepped back slowly.
Embarrassment burned her face.
But more than that—
Something cracked quietly inside her.
She had believed.
Even just a little.
As Clare walked away with Noah, Jack hesitated—
Then followed.
He stopped beside Noah.
"Is that why?" he asked quietly.
She didn't look at him.
"You looked happy," she said softly.
"With her."
Jack exhaled.
"I wasn't."
Silence.
"You think I'd choose someone else so easily?"
Noah finally looked up.
And for the first time in days—
There was no anger in her eyes.
Just confusion.
Jack ran a hand through his hair.
"You're impossible," he muttered.
But there was relief in his voice.
Behind them, Alice stood still under the fading evening light.
Her parents were speaking.
But she wasn't listening.
For the first time—
She realized something important.
Not everything that looks like fate—
Belongs to you.
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