I’m Back
I don't quite know. How to say. How I feel. Those three words are said too much, they're not enough.
—Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
• • •
THE FLOWERS KEEP COMING EVERYDAY, and today, I’ve gotten a 48-pack of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. There’s a note attached inside the case. I unfold it, reading the note, it says: I know how much you’re a sucker for sweets, enjoy these beautiful.
How did this anonymous sender know that I love Ferrero Rocher? I’ve been ignoring all the gifts he/she was sending me, believing that it’s probably a prank. But now I’m suspecting that this person is probably someone I know—a guy perhaps.
I examine the note carefully, the words are handwritten and the penmanship is really familiar. I think I’ve seen it all before.
“Another chocolates and flowers, huh?” Ashley says.
I heave out a sigh. “Yeah,” I affirm, “this is getting problematic.”
“How come?”
“I’m married and I can’t handle any more of my husband’s jealous stint.”
“At least he cares,” she says, chortling, “and that signifies that he’s really in-love with you.”
I nod in agreement. “And I’m lucky for that.”
BECAUSE MY CURIOSITY IS KILLING ME, I’ve decided to ask the receptionist about the identity of the sender. “What can I do for you?” The receptionist asks.
“I’d like to ask something,” I start, “About the identity of the person who’s sending flowers to the LD floor.”
“Hmm…” It seems like she’s trying to peruse through her memories. I stare at her expectantly, desperate for an answer. After a minute, she finally speaks, “A delivery guy usually sends them in.”
“Did the delivery guy tell you any details about the sender and the reason why they’re sending it?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“How did it pass through here, then? I mean, isn’t it part of the company’s policy not to receive any gifts or stuffs from strangers?” I press.
“We have an exception,” she rectifies, “The guy passed through the security so we assumed that it’s safe. It looked like the person who sent it is someone you know, since they know your full name. And they have some connection with a well-renowned company,” she explains.
“Which company?”
“The Clarkson company.”
I’m taken aback by my discovery. Clarkson Company? Could it be my father? We’ve mended things, but I know well that my father isn’t the flower-sending type of person. Plus, he doesn’t know that I like Ferrero Rocher or peonies.
I really need answers, but it looks like I’m not getting them. I really need to be more vigilant with my surrounding.
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If We Love Again
General Fiction[COMPLETED / 1st series] "6 words, 1 regrets: I shouldn't have let you go." - Zoe found herself stuck in the past; ten years ago when she lost her first love to circumstances. On one fateful day, their paths cross once again. She was determi...
