“Be at mine by seven, wait in the master suite.”
Why he never sent a text or picked up the phone to ring her she didn’t know and she would never have asked. The rose was his calling card and would have been romantic had it not been Christmas eve. She had so much to do and now none of it would get done. Yes she could have denied receiving the rose but that was never going to happen and he knew it, that’s why he had the blood red, long stemmed rose delivered to her door at five o’clock the night before Christmas. He knew without doubt she would follow his note to the letter.
She placed the rose in the vase with the others, all of different ages, each one kept and even dried afterwards. Each one a precious reminder to her of the time spent with him.
With the rose in…
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