Chapter 4

Summer's POV

The next morning I went to the flower shop as usual.

When you finally make the decision to let go, even the pain goes quiet. It just goes numb.

At ten o'clock, a familiar black sedan pulled up outside.

Ethan's assistant came through the door, looking visibly uncomfortable.

"Ma'am..."

"Summer is fine." I cut him off, polite but distant.

He cleared his throat and pressed on.

"Ms. Summer, Mr. Gordon would like to place an order. The finest Ecuadorian white roses available, delivered to the Champs-Élysées apartment on the south side of town."

The Champs-Élysées apartment. One of Ethan's properties.

My hand paused mid-trim. The pruning shears slipped and caught the webbing between my thumb and forefinger. A thin line of red.

White roses. Wendy's favorite.

So he did know how to be romantic after all. He just never aimed any of it in my direction.

"Got it." I blotted the cut with a paper towel and made a note on the order form. "Delivered before two o'clock."

The assistant looked at me like he wanted to say something. In the end, he just exhaled and left.

That afternoon, I had a run to a greenhouse out past the city limits, a shipment of rare moth orchids coming in.

The greenhouse was hot and thick with humidity. The air smelled like wet soil and blossoms.

I was up on a stepladder, carefully transferring a high-shelf orchid down, when the greenhouse door swung open.

I turned.

Ethan and Wendy walked in side by side.

Wendy was in a long floral dress, her hand looped through Ethan's arm, smiling like a girl who'd fallen completely and willingly in love.

"Ethan, the orchids in here are gorgeous. I want a few for my balcony."

Her voice was all soft edges.

Ethan let her hold his arm. His expression was something I had never seen him wear for me, easy, indulgent.

"Take whichever ones you want."

I stood on the ladder and watched. My stomach turned.

I forced my eyes away and went back to moving the planter in my hands.

Maybe I shifted too fast. Maybe the rack had been loose for years.

The stepladder suddenly swayed. The heavy metal shelving unit beside it lost its balance and started to fall, straight down toward Wendy.

Wendy screamed.

I didn't think. My body moved before my brain did. I lunged forward and grabbed for the shelving unit, trying to catch it.

I'd overestimated myself.

The metal rack came down hard, taking a row of ceramic planters with it.

In the same instant, a dark shape threw itself across the room.

Ethan grabbed Wendy and pulled her in, taking the impact on his back as they rolled together onto clear ground.

And I was left behind entirely.

The rack came down on my arm. The force of it knocked me flat.

Ceramic pots exploded across the floor. Sharp shards drove into my forearm and shin. Blood came fast.

The pain hit like a wave. I gasped. My vision went dark at the edges.

I lay face-down in the broken pottery and dirt, and somehow managed to lift my head.

A few feet away, Ethan was checking Wendy over frantically, his voice completely undone.

"Wendy! Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts."

Wendy was sheet-white, clutching his shirt, crying.

"Ethan, I was so scared. I thought I was going to die..."

"You're okay. You're okay. I've got you."

He held her tightly, whispering it over and over.

I lay in the wreckage and watched them. Blood dripped from my arm into the dark soil beneath me, spreading red in a slow, wide ring.

My body was in agony. It felt like something had broken.

But it wasn't the worst pain I was feeling.

It was like being stabbed with thousands of needles at once, a pain so complete it made even breathing feel like a luxury.

"Ethan..."

I forced the word out through clenched teeth, barely a sound.

Ethan heard it. He turned.

He saw me lying in the blood.

His eyes widened for just a second.

But he didn't let go of Wendy.

Wendy caught sight of me and screamed, pressing deeper into his chest.

"Ethan, the blood. There's so much blood."

Ethan's jaw locked. He looked at me, covered in blood and soil, and what crossed his face wasn't concern.

It was disgust.

"What are you standing around for? Call an ambulance."

He shouted it at the greenhouse owner, then lifted Wendy in his arms and started walking toward the door.

When he passed me, he stopped for just a moment. His voice had no warmth at all.

"Get yourself a cab to the hospital. You're covered in blood. You'll ruin the car. Wendy's had a shock. I need to take her now."

Then he was gone.

I lay on the cold ground and watched him go. And then I started to laugh.

The laughter kept going. Tears cut through the mud and blood on my face.

You'll ruin the car.

At the moment I was closest to dying, what he was worried about was his upholstery.

I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me.