Chapter Twenty-Five

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I woke up to the sound of my door bell ringing. I scanned my eyes around the moment I opened them and found Ellie lying on my couch. She was hugging my waist and snoring while she slept peacefully in my embrace. I was more than startled by it than the bell. It became clearer and more real then I pulled myself away, careful to not wake her up.

The sun made me able to see the mess we've made, and there were bottles and biscuit wrappers on the floor. I tip toed up to my front door making sure I don't get my feet cut on my way.

I opened it. A delivery man stood across me. His dreadlocks were long, and clean, it cuts of on his chest. He looks like he smells good, but he had a bored face and voice. Trust me, I get him. Just who would let him deliver this early? Plus, it's Sunday, there should be no work.

"Is this the house of Karlene Miller?" he asked.

"Yes it is."

A bouquet of pink rose flowers was resting on his other arm, it was arranged in a dome shaped looking very elegant. He handed me a paper. He said I should sign it. What for? I signed it, and handed it back to him but he pushed my arm back and said that I could keep it.

Now this is really confusing me. Is this a social experiment? I peaked my head outside searching for John Quinones and his camera crew but no signs of them. Not yet for all I know. Maybe they were waiting to catch me off guard and the next thing I knew my face is all over their 'What will you do?' page as the suburban lady who looks like she's been through a fucking warzone.

Does sleeping with your neighbor causes overthinking?

"Is that all?" I yawned then looked back inside my living room stealing a glance at Ellie who was still fast asleep on my couch. It looked like her skin was too exposed, I was worried she might get cold.

I rushed back inside totally forgetting about the delivery man in front of my house.

"Ma'am!" He called sending me back.

I didn't even order anything online, why do I have to deal with this?

He pointed at the bouquet. "Your roses from Mr. Wallace."

Oh. So it's from him? "I don't want it. Return it back to the sender."

The delivery man was weirded out by my response. "But it's- it's a beautiful bouquet why would you- um not accept it?"

"Because I don't want it and I want you to return it back to the sender...?" I shrugged. Did I not make myself clear? I really don't want to start an argument right now...

"Are you serious?" The delivery man asked in a more naughty way as he raised one of his sharp eyebrow. I couldn't have expected that from his tall muscular figure. "Some of these are Rosa 'La France', considered to be the first hybrid tea rose. And you want me to send it back, Are you fucking with me?"

I crossed my arms firing the naughty back at him but with a much louder voice. "Look, I don't fucking care if it's name is 'La France', or 'La Saudi Arabia' or 'La United States Of America'... I hate the person sending that to me, and I don't want any more connections with him, got that?"

I'm losing my cool... I took a deep breath calming myself down.

He had the nerve to talk back, but this time he was back to his bored face again. "All in all, the bouquet costs 458 dollars."

"Wait- really...?"

I waited for him to confirm it. And then he nodded.

"Well why didn't you say sooner! I'll take it back. Give it to me~"

He just rolled his eyes full of judgement in them. I know what he's thinking okay? Couldn't be more evident than that pouting lips he's making.

Before he could run back to his motorcycle, I coughed in time making him turn around. I might or might not piss him off more, but I'm hoping for a good outcome.

"Could I um... sell this to you perhaps?"

He raised a brow. Is he intrigued...?

"You seem pretty interested in them..." I convinced him more, but now, he's raising both of his eyebrow. "I-I was thinking of cutting the price in half."

He had a moment of silence, a surging clash in his mind. His lips twitched, his entire face changed everytime as he contemplated. We had a long staring contest. And the more I look at him the more he looks like he's having a seizure or something.

"Are you okay-"

"I'll buy it!" He shut me up by hovering a hand on my face.

"Great!" I almost jumped in joy. Because who needs a damn flower, when you can have it in cash? Flowers rot easily, money doesn't. "The sender doesn't have to know," I whispered as I gave him a serious glare. "Keep our transaction a secret. Please?"

"Yes ma'am." He pulled out a couple of hundred dollars on his pocket. "Here. I'll come and get the flowers after my shift." He transfered the bouquet on my arms and I happily accepted it.

"Okay. That's no problem."

I waved him off as he returned back and hopped on his motorcycle with a huge smile plastered on his face. When he rode away, I checked out the flowers, taking it all in. The crowd of pink and white roses in the middle were surrounded by dried, tiny, colorful shrubs. The flowers were banded in a light blue wrapping paper, and that wrapping paper was secured by another dark blue mesh paper. Jon really outdid himself. Too bad I'm not a fan of flowers, actually, I despise them.

The look of it, especially the smell of it. It was similar to the scent of the funeral room. The same scent I was smelling as I looked down upon my Father's casket. As tears trickled down my face, as I strained my voice in crying, and as I spaced out most of the time at the chair beside his cold, lifeless body. And I could've been more dead at that moment like he was. I was faded, my everything had passed away and I was left with nothing and no one, but those damned flowers so alive and so vibrant. I wish more than anything, that they swap places. Flowers were given to me that night to console, but why was it that I feel hatred and jealousy towards it because of the way it gets to stay still and beautiful while everyone else surrounding it was completely wrecked...?

I placed it on my dining table then ripped the letter sticking on it's wrapper. In front of the small folded scented paper, wrote, from Jon.

I rolled my eyes and at the same time, slipping the tiny folder on my short's pocket.  At least I got 200 dollars from it.

Clutching the money I had on my hand, I ran upstairs to change clothes, and to get a blanket for Ellie.

I have to dispose the cash, so I'm planning on having a quick grocery on a nearby convenience store. Well, isn't this a fortune-ate day? 

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