Flower Girl | h.s.

48. Part One.*

Daisy

I've always heard the saying 'all's well that ends well', but never truly knew the meaning.

But when did it end? Why did it end? How could it all be well?

My future-self was going to look back on these memories, and wish for another day like today. Another day where my happiness was the only part of someone that mattered. Another day where I had come to a conclusion that people were put into our lives for a reason.

There has been times I wasn't so happy– with people who made it worse.

I didn't need another reason to remember the pieces of me that were damaged; the pieces of me that were only because of people that didn't mean a thing to me anymore.

The days that followed would swallow the goodness of today.

Maybe the saying of all's well that ends well would start to have a new meaning.

But, it may have been why this day felt extraordinary.

I hadn't seen Harry all day– he had told me that he'd text me when he was done running whatever errands had taken up all of his time recently.

It meant that there was a lot of alone time in the house. I hadn't worked the past few days, leading up to graduation.

Tomorrow was finally the day that I graduated from UCLA with my Bachelors in Education. It was the beginning of a chapter that I had only dreamed of.

It felt like a long time coming, but it was now just around the corner– literally. We had a huge weekend coming up, a very overwhelming next few days, which meant that Harry was out trying to organize everything and make sure that everything was set in stone.

I told him that I was available to help with whatever he needed, but as usual, he told me to relax and start to practice writing my name on a chalkboard in the fancy teacher handwriting.

I'd laugh at him, which only enabled more jokes, but I figured that his ridiculousness warranted it.

He told me specifically to stay out of our bedroom for the day, and that he'd text me updates whenever he was ready for the plan to go into place. I didn't ask questions about these things anymore.

Whatever it was, I knew that one of Harry's main love languages was gift giving. He couldn't help but think of others when going to a store or watching a commercial on TV. There was always someone that he thought of, and I thought it said a lot about him as a person.

I told him that I didn't want anything over the top as a present; truthfully, I was alright with just going out to dinner with Harry and the kids to a nicer restaurant to try and celebrate low-key.

But that didn't seem to be in Harry's repertoire. 

I had noticed that the kids were out of the house– that should've been my first clue. That usually meant that they'd be gone for the rest of the night, or at least until later. No one had mentioned anything to me, so I figured that this was all part of Harry's massive plan.

By this time, it was already getting later into the day and I was feeling anxious as I sat on the couch. I couldn't imagine what Harry would have planned, but I knew that whatever it was, it would be with his whole heart.

That was the kind of man that he was– it was the kind of man that he had started to become more frequently. Showing his heart became easier when someone accepted it as their own, too.

It was a little bit past seven, and the sun was starting to go down in the sky. It was that early summer haze that only made you want to sit out on the porch and bask in the warmth a little while longer.