The Broken Vow: The Cheating Husband

The door swings open, unveiling Hayden's silhouette. "Hayden," I call out as I approach the entrance. Our gazes meet, but his eyes hold a shadowed intensity. "What?" he retorts curtly. My attention shifts to his disheveled appearance—wrinkled clothes, a faint scent foreign to me, and a disheveled hairstyle that suggests an intense workout. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for your return," I inquire, closely studying his demeanor. Irritation prickles within me as I witness his eye roll, igniting my anger. I had diligently planned a surprise, hidden away for weeks, intending to unveil it on this special day between us. "I'm tired, Allison. I've just finished work, and I don't have the energy for your issues right now," he wearily responds. His words catch me off guard, as profanity rarely surfaces in our conversations. It's not a matter of religious beliefs but a personal distaste for such a language. "I apologize. I expected you to remember our fifth anniversary, especially since your shift ended hours ago. Please don't deceive me. Tell me, where have you been?" I demand, yearning for answers regarding his whereabouts on this significant day. A groan escapes him, accompanied by a weary face-rubbing motion. "I was out," he mumbles before making his way upstairs. Determined to unravel the truth behind his recent odd behavior—early departures, late returns, bouts of silence, and his aversion to physical touch—I follow him, my quest for clarity intensifying. "Hayden, please disclose where you've been," I press, my voice betraying a touch of urgency. I long to comprehend the reasons behind this change—whether he is pulling away from me or concealing something. His occasional late-night returns only fuel my worries. Are my actions to blame? Or is there something more at play? I yearn for honesty and seek answers, desperate to understand the truth. Upon Hayden's arrival, he spotted me seated in the dining room. I met his gaze and spoke softly, "I had a conversation with a lawyer today. Tomorrow, both of us will sign the necessary paperwork. We will discuss everything with the lawyer present." The way he conveyed this information, coupled with his urgency to distance himself from me, only deepened the pain. Suppressing my tears, I simply nodded. He walked away, heading towards his room. In response, I reached for my phone and called my parents, explaining the situation to them. My father assured me that he would pick me up once the divorce papers were signed. While I knew I couldn't reside with them indefinitely, for now, it offered a temporary refuge. I remained seated at the dining table, contemplating my next steps and attempting to formulate a plan. Eventually, I rose from my seat and retreated to the guest room, seeking solace as I lay down, embracing a pillow tightly. The weight of my love for him became unbearable. Once again, tears streamed down my face as I drifted off into a fitful slumber. The divorce lawyer arrived, and we all convened at the dinner table, papers strewn before us. "Based on the documents I have reviewed, it appears that Mr. Robinson transferred one million dollars to Mrs. Robinson's account, as stipulated in the prenuptial agreement. Additionally, the house is registered under Mr. Robinson's name. Is this information accurate?" Hayden nodded, displaying no signs of perturbation. Meanwhile, I kept my head bowed, withdrawing into myself. My father had called, informing me of his arrival within the hour. He would arrive with a moving truck and a team of movers to assist with packing my belongings. "Is there anything else I should be aware of?" The lawyer inquired, producing a stack of papers adorned with stickers indicating the designated signature areas. "Mr. Robinson, please sign where the blue arrows indicate. Afterward, Mrs. Robinson, you will sign where the red arrows point." I nodded in acknowledgment. Hayden swiftly affixed his signature to the documents. With hesitation, I followed suit. Once I had completed the signatures, I left the room, avoiding any further contact with either of them. Making my way back to the guest room, I prepared myself for the inevitable. I returned to our previous room, gathering the items I had overlooked. Unable to resist the sentimental pull, I gathered some photographs of Hayden and me, as well as a cherished photo album I had created. Placing them carefully into boxes, I realized there was nothing left for me here. At that moment, my father's call interrupted the silence, indicating his presence outside. I rushed out of the house, running toward my father. Crumbling into his embrace, I unleashed my tears, seeking solace in his comforting arms. "It's okay, baby. It's okay," he whispered into my ear as he held me tightly. Desperately, I yearned for this to be a horrendous dream from which I would awaken. "He doesn't love me, Daddy. He doesn't love me," I sobbed, my voice laden with anguish. He tenderly stroked my back, maintaining a firm grip. "It's okay. I'm here now. Hayden won't hurt you anymore," he reassured me. I nodded, acknowledging his words. Subsequently, a team of movers arrived and loaded my belongings onto a sizable truck. Meanwhile, Hayden awaited my departure in the living room. Once everything was packed, my father informed me that he would be waiting in the car as I bid my final farewell. Stepping into the living room, I gazed at Hayden, yearning to reveal my surprise to him. However, I couldn't bear the emotional weight it carried. I knew he would likely reject me and want no part in what I had planned. "I'm sorry, Hayden. I sincerely apologize for whatever I may have done," I uttered, locking eyes with him. His expression remained impassive as he returned my gaze. I shifted my attention to my left hand, lifting it slowly. With a heavy heart, I removed my rings, placing them delicately on the coffee table. "I genuinely hope you find happiness, Hayden. I hope you discover the right person to love. Please forgive me, as I forgive you," I expressed, though the pain in my words was palpable. Despite the anguish, I still loved him, and I would miss him dearly. He would forever remain a part of me. "Goodbye, Hayden," I whispered for the last time, a solitary tear escaping my eye as I turned away. Exiting the house, I joined my father in the car. As we drove off, I glanced back at the shrinking image of the house, until it vanished from sight. That was the moment when my life transformed. That was when I shattered.

Two years have passed, two seemingly endless years since my divorce. Barely a week had gone by when I discovered that Hayden had been involved with another woman, his secretary no less. To make matters worse, a friend informed me that he had been unfaithful throughout our marriage, for months on end. Suddenly, it all made sense. His desire for a divorce, his peculiar behavior—everything stemmed from his lack of love for me and his infidelity. The revelation only intensified my pain. For three weeks, I cried ceaselessly, finding no solace despite my father's attempts to console me. He encouraged me to rise above the situation, not allowing one person to ruin my future entirely. Fueled by his words, I embarked on a journey to rebuild my life, securing a job at a flower shop just one month later. The role brought me immense joy and fulfillment. Additionally, I sought refuge with my unwavering best friend, who had stood by my side throughout the divorce, providing unwavering support. Two years have elapsed, yet thoughts of Hayden persist. Memories of our shared happiness, the love we once cherished, they haunt me. I still love him, despite the anguish I feel when I see him with another woman. We haven't spoken, and as for the million dollars, I haven't touched a dime of it. But what shattered me further was revealing to my father the surprise I had prepared for Hayden—a surprise that I was carrying his child. My father attempted to support and assist me, but nothing could alleviate the pain. I was consumed by stress, endless nights filled with tears. And amidst the agony and strain, I tragically lost my baby. The loss of my child left me devastated. I didn't reach out to Hayden—I knew he wouldn't care, that he wouldn't want any part of me. And so, I grieved for my baby, shedding more tears. I loved Hayden, and I often envision a different life where we hadn't divorced and where my baby survived. We would be a contented family today. Yet, that reality eludes us. The depth of my love for him persists, while I remain burdened with a deceased child and a broken heart, while he carries on with a woman he genuinely loves. My friend Dorothy played a crucial role in helping me heal. Every day, we light a candle in honor of my baby, knowing that they are in a better place, where they can flourish in heaven. It pains me, however, to acknowledge that the two people I loved the most are no longer a part of my life. I still yearn for a happy life with Hayden, clinging to the memories of our profound love. Upon waking, I hope for his presence, but he remains absent. My life has undergone profound change. Five years were spent on a man who didn't love me, and I miss him dearly. As I carefully trim the flower stems and arrange them in a beautiful glass vase, my thoughts wander. My boss, Giselle, notices my preoccupied state and asks if I'm okay while tending to the flowers herself. I offer a reassuring nod and reply, "Just lost in my thoughts. Nothing to worry about." Setting the flowers aside, I dispose of the trimmings and other debris. Giselle speaks up again, concern etched on her face. I've confided in her about Hayden and everything I've been through, and she's been a source of support. "It's been two years, Allison. He's moved on, and maybe it's time for you to do the same." I shake my head, feeling conflicted. Despite Hayden moving on, I don't feel ready. It feels like a betrayal, even though he had already moved on himself. "I know. I just need more time," I admit, and Giselle simply nods understandingly. Our conversation is interrupted by a customer entering the store. I assist the customer while Giselle tends to the shop. Eventually, the store closes after three hours. Heading home to my best friend, Dorothy, I find her in the living room, engrossed in a bag of chips and watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory. I love that show too. I sit down next to her, playfully taking the chips from her hands. "Hey! I was eating those!" she protests, wearing an annoyed expression. I shrug and continue munching. "So, how was work?" I ask casually. Dorothy rolls her eyes dramatically. "Don't get me started. I dealt with three angry customers, an angry manager, and an angry boss. And Ingrid kept messing up the orders. It was a nightmare," she vents, her frustration evident. I frown sympathetically, well aware of the stress that comes with working at a diner. '"Well, at least you have tomorrow off. Maybe you can come visit me, and during my break, we can go out for lunch. My treat," I suggest, trying to lighten the mood. Dorothy looks at me and nods, a smile gracing her face.

As the evening wore on, Dorothy and I eventually grew weary and retired to our respective beds. However, sleep eluded me. My mind couldn't help but wander back to Hayden. The last I had heard, he was traversing the world, expanding his successful business ventures. I found solace in knowing that he was pursuing his passions. I remained unsure whether he was still with his former secretary or anyone else. It pained me to acknowledge that he had moved on, and it stung even more to reflect on the loss of my baby. Deep down, I knew Hayden would never have wanted to keep the child. It was just one of the many unfortunate aspects of our relationship. Despite everything, I still loved him. He wasn't my first romantic partner or my first kiss, but he was my first love, my first marriage. I had once believed that he would be my forever, my one and only. I shake my head, realizing the naivety of my dreams. Every marriage has its flaws, and sometimes those flaws become irreparable. There are moments when I sift through old photographs, reminiscing about the happier times we shared. I can't deny that I miss him, even though he shattered my heart into countless pieces. I've added new pictures to the album, capturing the precious moments of my baby. Ultrasound images that depict my son's growth. Sometimes I ponder whether it was the right decision to keep my child a secret from Hayden, knowing they will never have the chance to meet. I doubt it would have changed anything. After all, Hayden doesn't love me. I wasted five years of my life on someone who ultimately broke my heart. But in truth, I've wasted even more years since the day we met and began dating. All those years, gone. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. It was impossible to hold back the flood of emotions that overwhelmed me. All those heartfelt declarations of love, all the affection I poured into our relationship, all of it felt wasted. My love, my life, my dreams, shattered by the actions of one man. I loved him with every fiber of my being. I loved him beyond measure, but he couldn't reciprocate that love. In truth, I'm not sure he loved me at all. I never imagined my life would come to this. When we were married, I played the role of a devoted housewife, while Hayden worked as the provider. He would always tell me he loved me before leaving for work, and every time he returned home, he would announce his arrival with a cheerful "Honey, I'm home!" I would eagerly rush to him, longing for his presence. And I still do. I yearn for the sensation of running my fingers through his hair, embracing him tightly. I miss his touch and the way he held me in his arms before we slept. I miss the charming disarray of his hair and the comforting scent of burnt wood that clung to him. I miss how he never failed to remind me of his love, even though I knew it deep down, and how he would surprise me with thoughtful gifts on occasions when his words alone weren't enough. And I ache for his kisses and the way he uttered my name with a tenderness that made it feel like each time could be our last. I miss him, oh how I miss him. And so, with a heavy heart, I cried myself to sleep, clutching my pillow tightly, desperately attempting to suppress the memories of the person I once loved. ... I woke up early and prepared breakfast for both Dorothy and myself. Knowing she had the day off, I anticipated her sleeping in, so I made her some toast and eggs and placed them in the fridge. After getting ready for work, I grabbed my keys and drove to the flower shop, making a quick stop at a coffee shop along the way for a cup of steaming coffee. Upon parking at the flower shop, I entered, greeted by the familiar sound of the ringing bell. "Good morning, Allison," Giselle greeted me. I smiled in return. "Morning. I brought you some coffee," I said, holding up the cup. She eagerly took it, sipping and expressing her satisfaction with a contented hum. "Today, we have a client coming in for another wedding," Giselle informed me. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. It's not that I hate weddings, considering I had one myself, but some women can be quite demanding when it comes to flower choices and arrangements.

Personally, I wasn't overly particular about the flowers for my own wedding. I chose roses, daisies, gardenias, and daffodils, among others, and knew exactly what I wanted before visiting the flower shop, specifying the quantities I needed. However, many women who come in tend to expect the best and often request more or express dissatisfaction even when we provide excellent service. I then donned a white apron with the store logo in the corner. "When are they scheduled to arrive?" I inquired. "Around one, just an hour before your break. Is that alright?" Giselle confirmed. I nodded in agreement, and together, we began our work. Throughout the morning, several customers entered the shop, with the majority of them being men. Contrary to popular belief, it's often men who purchase flowers, whether for dates, anniversaries, or family occasions. Women typically come in for weddings, to buy flowers for friends, family, or decorations, as you don't often see women buying roses for men. It was heartwarming to witness couples exploring the shop, reminiscing about Hayden and the times he would buy me flowers for our anniversary or whenever I felt down. He even surprised me with flowers on our very first date. I quickly shook off those thoughts, banishing memories of Hayden and our shared moments from my mind. A woman entered the shop, striding confidently in a business suit and elegant black pumps. She clutched a phone in one hand, engrossed in texting, while her other hand grasped a fancy black purse. Despite having once been married to wealth, I remained unfamiliar with the world of expensive purses and luxury items. Hayden knew that I despised flaunting wealth, which is why I always opted for casual clothes from affordable stores that suited my style. It was not the same style the woman embodied. "I'm here for an appointment regarding my wedding," she stated with a firm and assertive tone. Her voice reminded me of how Hayden used to talk to everyone except me, or when our love had faded during our marriage. "Certainly. Please follow me," I replied, gesturing for her to follow as I led her to our meeting room. We both took a seat around a white table, and Giselle joined us shortly after, sitting next to me. "Hello, I'm Giselle, and this is one of my employees. I understand you need flowers for your wedding. Do you have any preferences in mind regarding the type and quantity of flowers?" Giselle inquired professionally. The woman nodded, opening a folder and presenting a selection of flowers that seemed oddly familiar. "I would like these flowers, and I'll need a few thousand of them," she declared. Giselle and I examined the photos. The woman's demands were quite extensive. "And what colors do you require?" Giselle asked. The woman replied, "I need them in white, blue, purple, yellow, and orange." Giselle jotted down the details in her notepad. "Very well. These flowers will come at a significant cost. The total price for them will amount to a few thousand dollars," Giselle stated. The woman simply nodded, unaffected by the price. Giselle made further notes in her pad. "When would you like the flowers to be ready for pickup?" Giselle asked. The woman paused, contemplating her response. "I'd like them to be ready in about three weeks, but five weeks at the latest. My wedding is next month, and I want everything to be prepared," she replied. Giselle and I acknowledged her request with a nod. "Is there anything else?" Giselle inquired. The woman shook her head, and we all rose from our seats, exchanging handshakes. As the woman departed, a sense of relief washed over me. "That woman is quite intimidating," I confided in Giselle, who nodded in agreement. "She needs to relax. I hope the man she's marrying matches her temperament, or else I pity him," Giselle remarked. I nodded. The woman didn't seem to exude any joy or lightheartedness, much like Hayden. He always carried an imposing aura that intimidated others. However, he would reveal his gentle side to me and would laugh freely when away from work or situations that threatened his image as a stern CEO. At times, I wondered if his kindness toward me was merely a façade, if he truly loved me. "Well, let's ensure we handle the flowers properly and keep them in perfect condition. I must admit, I'm not a fan of weddings," Giselle said as we exited the meeting room. I nodded in agreement. My own wedding was significant but not extravagant. I opted for an outdoor ceremony because I adored nature-inspired weddings. The venue was beautiful, and the candlelight and carefully arranged lighting created a stunning ambiance as darkness fell, captivating everyone present.

I shook my head once again, determined to push away the lingering memories. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was time for my break. "It's my break now, so I'll be heading out for lunch. See you in an hour," I informed Giselle as I removed my apron, grabbed my bag and keys, and prepared to leave. Driving towards a diner, I called Dorothy to let her know of our lunch plans. Upon arriving, I took a seat at a booth and patiently waited for Dorothy while perusing the menu. This diner held a special place in our hearts, and we often frequented it during our breaks or days off. As I scanned the menu, my stomach growled in anticipation. Soon enough, Dorothy appeared and settled across from me. "Hey, how was work?" she asked, opening her menu. I shrugged, replying, "It was alright. I had a meeting with a woman who was all business and lacked any sense of fun. She's planning a wedding, and the flower arrangements she requested will require significant effort. Giselle and I will do our best to procure and arrange the flowers. But that woman seemed so stern, it's hard to imagine someone wanting to marry her." Dorothy chuckled at my description. "Was she really that severe?" she inquired. I nodded, stating, "Not a single smile from her." Dorothy burst into laughter, exclaiming, "Damn, I feel sorry for the poor guy who's going to marry her." We shared a laugh, both sympathizing with the groom-to-be. We quickly placed our orders and engaged in conversation about our day, discussing our other friends and making plans for our shared day off. Since it was a Friday, we had a blast in mind—heading to the mall, enjoying a meal together, and possibly catching a movie. After finishing our meal, I took care of the bill, and we bid our farewells. I made my way back to work, finding Giselle attending to a customer upon my return. "How was your lunch?" she inquired. I shrugged, replying, "It was fine." Giselle nodded, and I resumed my duties, eagerly anticipating the end of my shift. Upon arriving home, I noticed Dorothy's absence. She was probably out and about, caught up in some mysterious adventure. I exhaled deeply, making my way to the kitchen in search of comfort in the form of ice cream. The benefits of an empty house included the lack of parental criticism about my diet and my choice of dining room - namely, the living room. Retrieving a small tub of cookie dough ice cream, I migrated to the couch, flicking on the TV and settling down with my frozen treat. As I indulged in the sweet delicacy, my attention was devoted to my favorite show, The Big Bang Theory. The show always triggered a smile; its witty humor provided a pleasant distraction from reality. My mind wandered back to the times when I lived with Hayden. The Big Bang Theory was often the backdrop to our evenings, despite his feigned annoyance. Hayden often complained that the show distracted me from his company. To add salt to the wound, I would teasingly insist that Sheldon was more appealing than he was. Despite his protests, there were times when he would join me, our laughter filling the room as we shared in the amusement of the series. He was never forthright about enjoying it, though; any inquiries were met with grunts and a swift change of subject. His sometimes girlish demeanor brought a certain charm to these shared moments. My mind began to drift towards melancholy. I pondered if Hayden ever thought about me the way I did about him. Was I ever a significant part of his life? Did he truly love me, want me? I longed to know if he was content now, without me. I questioned if his life was more joyful without my presence, or if he ever felt a pang of longing for me, even if only fleeting. My heart missed him with a constant, aching throb. Shaking off the encroaching sorrow, I reminded myself not to weep over him today. My indulgence in ice cream morphed from a simple hunger to a mechanism for coping with my melancholy. My evening was consumed by the antics of The Big Bang Theory and dreams of waking up once again in Hayden's embrace. I glanced down to find the ice cream tub emptied, a whimper of desire escaping my lips. I craved more - more of the sugary comfort that momentarily eased my distress. Discarding the empty ice cream container, I wondered what to eat next. I was in no mood to cook, and a sweet craving persisted. A brief search around the kitchen rewarded me with some muffins. My taste buds rejoiced as I bit into the sweet pastry. Indeed, I was eating my feelings, but the taste provided a brief respite from the pain. Having consumed the muffins, I made my way to bed. This time, there were no tears, and I refrained from indulging in thoughts of the man who had shattered my heart. Instead, my thoughts were focused on the forthcoming day as I drifted off to sleep.

Awakening to the piercing rays of sunlight, I glanced at the nearby clock, registering the early hour of seven in the morning. With a resigned sigh, I rolled over, only to feel the unexpected pressure of an arm draped around me. A wave of alarm washed over me, a brief, panicked thought of being kidnapped. But as I scanned the room, a sense of familiarity set in. It was Hayden's room, our room when we were married. Turning slowly, I came face-to-face with a slumbering Hayden. My breath hitched in my chest. It was him. Truly him. Tears welled up in my eyes at the sight of him so close, a tangible presence next to me. Hesitant, I reached out, my hand ghosting over his familiar features. The sensation was the same, unchanged. I traced my thumb against his cheek, marveling at the beauty of his resting face, wishing to stay in this moment forever. Hayden stirred, awakening without me withdrawing my hand. I needed to engrave this moment in my memory. "Why are you up so early? Is everything alright?" His grey-blue eyes, a color I adored, were full of concern. Last time I saw them, they were stormy with anger. "I missed you," I confessed. His brows knitted in confusion. "What do you mean? I've been here, all day and night." Shaking my head while still maintaining the intimate contact, I admitted, "But you weren't. You left me. You shattered me." His response was to take my hand, pressing a kiss to it, stirring butterflies in my stomach. "I am here, Allison. I will always be here. I can't bear the thought of leaving you. You are mine." His words resonated in the silence. Tears streamed down my face as I clung to his promise, to him. "Don't leave me, Hayden. Please. I want to be here with you. Stay with me," my plea was muffled in his shirt as he encircled me with his arms. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here, forever and ever," he assured me. Pulling back, I scrutinized his face, memorizing every detail. "I love you, Hayden. So much. I love you to the sun and back," I confessed, longing for this moment to never end. His smile mirrored mine, "I love you too, Allison. So much. I love you to the moon and back, and back around." He drew me in, our lips meeting in a fervent exchange that was all too familiar. Suddenly, my eyes sprung open, the daylight blinding. Frantically scanning the room for Hayden, the crushing realization dawned - it was all a dream. My cheeks were damp with tears. Desperation gripped me as I yearned to return to that dream. His voice, his face, it all felt so tangible. But it was all an illusion, as fake as his love, our marriage, and the affection he showed me. The sight of an empty space beside me was a cruel reminder. He always slept on the right side of the bed, while I favored the left. It was our routine, a pattern that I still follow. I couldn't help but think that breaking this routine would somehow unravel the world. It's absurd, I know, but it's a vestige of a life we once shared, a piece of a dream that felt too real. I shake my head in disappointment as I rise from the bed and retrieve some clothes. Making my way to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and the sight is disheartening. Time has taken its toll since I left Hayden. My once auburn brown hair has darkened, appearing closer to dark brown, and my once vibrant amber eyes now resemble plain brown. Even my fair skin seems lifeless, almost resembling paper. I've also lost weight, shedding the slight plumpness I used to have, which Hayden seemed to appreciate. Shaking my head once again, I turn on the shower, hoping to wash away the memories of him and the troubling dream. The water cascades over me, but my shower is brief. Afterward, I quickly get dressed and make my way to the living room, where Dorothy is munching on a bowl of cereal. I force a smile as I enter, concealing my sadness. "Where did you go yesterday?" I inquire, attempting to engage in casual conversation. She shrugs nonchalantly. "Just went to this bar, wasn't really my thing. But I did meet a few guys," she replies. Nodding in response, I take a seat after grabbing some cereal for myself. "We should head out soon, considering it's our day off," I suggest, my voice masking my inner turmoil. Dorothy agrees, stating her intention to shower and get ready. She proposes a plan for the day: shopping, followed by a meal, and then catching a movie, leaving the choice of film to me. I nod in agreement, and she heads off to prepare while I retreat to my room to ready myself. Afterward, I check online to see what's currently showing. A particular movie catches my interest, and I note the screening time with a smile. Dorothy enters my room, all dressed and prepared. "So, did you find something good to watch?" she asks. I nod, a hint of excitement in my voice. "I'd like to see a movie called 'How to Be Single.' It starts at ten-thirty, giving us plenty of time to shop first." Dorothy expresses her approval, exclaiming, "Awesome!" We leave the house once we're both ready, making our way to the mall. Dorothy steps out of the car, and I follow suit. As expected, the mall is bustling with activity. We enter and begin browsing. "I want to check out the clothing store," Dorothy suggests, pointing in its direction. I agree, and we make our way there, navigating through the crowd. Inside the store, Dorothy heads to the skirts and dresses section. Personally, I can tolerate dresses, but they aren't my preference. However, in the past, Hayden would insist on me wearing dresses all the time, wanting to showcase my beauty to others. I reluctantly complied with his wishes. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I focus on browsing the shirts instead. I select three that catch my eye, while Dorothy settles on three dresses and four shirts.

With our choices made, we move on to a few other stores, purchasing a few more items along the way. Soon enough, we find ourselves laden with four bags each. Hunger pangs reminding us of our neglected stomachs, we decide to find a place to eat. Dorothy settles across from me, enjoying her Chinese food, while I quietly consume a sandwich, lost in my own thoughts. "What's going on, Allison?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. I gaze at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?" I inquire. She gives me a knowing look and rolls her eyes. "Don't play dumb. I've been watching you mope around. Tell me what's bothering you." I let out a sigh, realizing I can't keep it hidden from her. "It's just... he's been on my mind," I admit. Dorothy looks at me, sympathy evident in her eyes. "It's been two years, Allison. You need to move on." I shake my head, knowing it's easier said than done. "It's not that simple, Dorothy. We were married for five years, and we dated for who knows how long. I can't just forget about him." She sighs, her voice filled with compassion. "But it has been two years. Two long years for you to try and forget about him. You have to move on. He's not coming back. And I'm willing to bet he's still involved with that secretary chick, the one he cheated on you with. He's moved on, so should you." I look at her, knowing deep down she's right. I did have two years to move on, yet I find myself thinking of him every day. He did betray me. He did leave me for another woman. But I can't seem to erase him from my mind. "Come on, the movie is about to start," she urges. I nod slowly, following her lead. We exit the mall and head to the movie theater. Upon arrival, we purchase our tickets, and it's time to acquire the essentials: popcorn, sodas, and of course, candy. Dorothy focuses on selecting her desired candies while I head towards the popcorn counter. Finally, it's my turn to order. "Hey, what can I get for you?" the guy behind the counter asks. I put on a polite smile and meet his gaze. "Could I have a large popcorn with butter, please?" I request. The guy nods, jotting it down. "Anything else?" I nod affirmatively. "And two medium-sized sodas, please." He acknowledges my order and departs to prepare it. Meanwhile, Dorothy returns with an assortment of four different candies and a hot dog. "I'll go save us some seats," she declares, and then she scampers off. I stand there, patiently waiting for the food to be ready. "Here you go," the attendant says, handing me the items. I nod my thanks. "Please come again soon," he says, flashing a friendly smile. I take the food and beverages, making my way to the theater. After scanning the dimly lit room, I eventually locate Dorothy seated in the middle. I take a seat beside her, grateful that the movie hasn't started yet. "Did you get the guy's number?" she whispers, a mischievous glint in her eyes. I glance at her, whispering back, "Whose number?" She responds with an exaggerated eye roll. "No, I didn't get his number," she grumbles, turning her attention to the big screen. I roll my eyes, finding her reaction a bit childish. Letting out a sigh, I focus on the movie, laughing along with the rest of the audience. However, to my dismay, Dorothy manages to devour the entire popcorn within five minutes, leaving me with a disapproving glare. "What?" she whispers innocently. I shake my head and announce, "I'm going to get more." She smiles, and I make my way to the front counter to fulfill my mission. Sighing, I approach the counter, finding the same guy engaged in conversation with a girl. Clearing my throat to get his attention, he looks at me and flashes a smile. "Hello again. What can I do for you?" I nod in response. "I need another large popcorn, please." He acknowledges my request and walks away to prepare it. "Is the movie good?" he asks. I nod. "Yeah, it's pretty funny." He nods in agreement. "I hardly ever get to watch the movies, even though I work here." I frown sympathetically. "That must be tough." He nods and returns with the popcorn, adding a little extra. "Here's your popcorn, and a little something extra," he says, placing a large popcorn and a pack of gummy candies on the counter. I look at him in surprise. "Thanks." He nods. "Enjoy, and come back soon," he says, giving me a playful wink. Blushing slightly, I walk away, trying to compose myself. It's been a while since someone flirted with me, and at twenty-seven, it feels refreshing. Returning to the theater, I settle back into my seat, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary happened. Dorothy looks at me, a knowing smile on her face, likely aware of the encounter. I simply shake my head and refocus on the movie, indulging in the gummy candies the guy gave me. An hour later, the movie concludes, and Dorothy and I join the rest of the crowd in leaving the theater and entering the main lobby. Glancing towards the counter, I spot the guy once again. "Go talk to him! Get his number," Dorothy urges. I look at her and let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll do it," I concede, knowing she won't let me leave without either of us getting a number. Gathering my courage, I approach the counter and clear my throat. The guy looks up at me, and I say, "It's not about more candy now that the movie is over. I just came to talk to you. My friend won't stop bothering me." He glances behind me, and I turn to see Dorothy waving enthusiastically.

The guy waves back and chuckles. "I have friends like that too, so I understand," he says. I nod and continue the conversation. "So, how was the movie?" he asks. I shrug. "It was good, but you know, not the best." He raises an eyebrow inquisitively. "Why not?" I shrug once again. "Chick flicks and romantic movies aren't really my thing," I confess, recalling a time when they used to be. "Why not?" he asks, intrigued. Letting out a sigh, I absentmindedly trace patterns on the glass counter, which displays an array of tempting candies. "It's the whole love story that doesn't resonate with me. They all feel the same—fights, heartbreaks, and then a contrived happy ending. I prefer it when the guy has the courage to end it before it falls apart again," "I was once married. Fell in love, but you know." He looks down at my left finger, seeing it empty with no ring. "Ahhh...what did he do?" I roll my eyes, trying to erase the memory. "He found love wit his secretary. Cheated on me, wanted a divorce saying he didn't love me." I let out a hard laugh. "I really shouldn't be telling you this. I just barely met you and I am telling you my whole life story." I say. He shakes his head looking calm. "It's okay. We all have a story that defines us. I can tell you that I had also been heart broken. Not married, but heart broken." I nod my head, standing up straight. "It has been two years. I am over it.-" No I am not. "-He has moved and I should too." I say. He nods his head. "Yeah. You should. You don't deserve him either way and he doesn't deserve you." I smile. "I never got you name. It is weird not knowing your name even though I am telling you everything about me." I say. He chuckles, his laughter light. "My name is Preston but people call me Joe." I shake his hand as he sticks his out. "My name is Allison." He then smiles. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." I let out a light blush. "It wouldn't be a crime if I asked for your number, would it?" Preston asks. I shake my head. "Not at all." I say. He then smiles brightly and he gives me a pen and a paper. I take it and write my number on it before handing it to him. "Great. Thanks. I will call you." He says. I nod my head. "Enjoy your day, Preston." I say. He looks at me. "Enjoy your day, Allison. And, don't mope around that guy again. He didn't deserve you from the start. But, someone out there is waiting for you. Trust me." I nod my head and then walk away. I look up at Dorothy once I arrive in front of her, seeing her with a bright smile. "Oh my gosh. You two already looked like a happy couple." She says. I roll my eyes. "Alright. Come on. Lets go." I say. She giggles, but I couldn't help but feel a bit giddy inside. Maybe this is good for me. Moving on. Hayden won't come back and I know that. So, I can't keep thinking about him my whole life, wasting it while he is out there, probably married or still with someone. Maybe I can find love once more. "No, I didn't get his number," she grumbles, turning her attention to the big screen. I roll my eyes, finding her reaction a bit childish. Letting out a sigh, I focus on the movie, laughing along with the rest of the audience. However, to my dismay, Dorothy manages to devour the entire popcorn within five minutes, leaving me with a disapproving glare. "What?" she whispers innocently. I shake my head and announce, "I'm going to get more." She smiles, and I make my way to the front counter to fulfill my mission. Sighing, I approach the counter, finding the same guy engaged in conversation with a girl. Clearing my throat to get his attention, he looks at me and flashes a smile. "Hello again. What can I do for you?" I nod in response. "I need another large popcorn, please." He acknowledges my request and walks away to prepare it. "Is the movie good?" he asks. I nod. "Yeah, it's pretty funny." He nods in agreement. "I hardly ever get to watch the movies, even though I work here." I frown sympathetically. "That must be tough." He nods and returns with the popcorn, adding a little extra. "Here's your popcorn, and a little something extra," he says, placing a large popcorn and a pack of gummy candies on the counter. I look at him in surprise. "Thanks." He nodded. "Enjoy, and come back soon," he says, giving me a playful wink. Blushing slightly, I walk away, trying to compose myself. It's been a while since someone flirted with me, and at twenty-seven, it feels refreshing. Returning to the theater, I settle back into my seat, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary happened. Dorothy looks at me, a knowing smile on her face, likely aware of the encounter. I simply shake my head and refocus on the movie, indulging in the gummy candies the guy gave me. An hour later, the movie concludes, and Dorothy and I join the rest of the crowd in leaving the theater and entering the main lobby. Glancing towards the counter, I spot the guy once again. "Go talk to him! Get his number," Dorothy urges. I look at her and let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll do it," I concede, knowing she won't let me leave without either of us getting a number. Gathering my courage, I approach the counter and clear my throat. The guy looks up at me, and I say, "It's not about more candy now that the movie is over. I just came to talk to you. My friend won't stop bothering me." He glances behind me, and I turn to see Dorothy waving enthusiastically. The guy waves back and chuckles. "I have friends like that too, so I understand," he says. I nod and continue the conversation. "So, how was the movie?" he asks. I shrug. "It was good, but you know, not the best." He raises an eyebrow inquisitively. "Why not?" I shrug once again. "Chick flicks and romantic movies aren't really my thing," I confess, recalling a time when they used to be. "Why not?" he asks, intrigued. Letting out a sigh, I absentmindedly trace patterns on the glass counter, which displays an array of tempting candies. "It's the whole love story that doesn't resonate with me. They all feel the same—fights, heartbreaks, and then a contrived happy ending. I prefer it when the guy has the courage to end it before it falls apart again," I frown, realizing that he caught on to my personal sentiments quickly.

Entering my workplace, I spot Giselle arranging flowers in the back. "Hey, Giselle," I greet her. She looks up and smiles. "Hello, Allison. Did you have a good day off?" I nod, a small smile forming on my face as I recall the events of the previous day. "It was nice. So, what do you need help with? Dead flowers again?" I ask, noticing her playing with one of the withered blooms. Giselle's least favorite part of owning a flower shop is dealing with the abundance of dead flowers each week. She believes they still hold beauty despite their short lifespan. "Yes, poor things," she sighs. "Don't worry, Giselle. More flowers are born every year," I offer reassuringly. She nods in agreement, and I begin plucking out the dead flowers, carefully placing them in a large black trash bag. "So, what did you do yesterday?" Giselle inquires curiously. I shrug nonchalantly. "Dorothy and I went out. We went shopping, grabbed a meal, and watched a movie. Nothing too eventful," I reply. Giselle studies me, sensing that there's something I'm holding back. "And...?" she prods gently. Sighing, I turn to face her. "I kind of... met someone?" I say, phrasing it as a question. Her surprise is evident as she looks at me with wide eyes. "Really? Who is it?" she asks eagerly. I sigh again and continue removing the dead flowers. "He works at the movie theater, but despite his job, he was really nice. Sweet, actually. He even gave me some free candy," I share, turning my head to glance at Giselle. A smile spreads across her face. "At this point, I don't care where he works or how he looks. I'm just glad you've found someone. So, what's his name?" she inquires with genuine interest. Grinning, I resume my task. "His name is Preston. Oh, and I may have mentioned to him that I'm divorced and that Hayden cheated on me," I confess, not entirely sure how Giselle will react. Her lips flatten, but she maintains her composure. "And what did he say?" I shrug, unsure of how to interpret Preston's response. "He didn't really react. He just said that he was also heartbroken and that Hayden didn't deserve me," I reply. Giselle looks at me, a mix of concern and support in her eyes. "Well, at least he didn't run for the hills," she comments. Chuckling, I add, "No, he wasn't that bad, really." Preston had evoked a reaction in me that I hadn't experienced in a long time. Suddenly, my phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call from an unknown number. Puzzled, I answer it. "Hello?" I greet uncertainly, and a chuckle emanates from the other end. "Hello to you too," a familiar voice replies. A smile tugs at my lips. Giselle looks at me, puzzled by my expression. "Hey, Preston," I say warmly, and Giselle's confusion turns into a knowing smile. "Hello, Allison. How are you? I'm doing well, thank you for asking," he replies. I chuckle softly. "I'm at work, Preston. And I'm also doing well," I respond, carrying on with the task of discarding the dead flowers. I hear him sigh on the other end. "Sorry, I didn't know you had a job. But, I really don't know much about you," Preston admits, and I continue removing the dead flowers from their stems. "It's okay. My boss won't get mad," I assure him, hearing Giselle burst into laughter nearby. I can't help but smile. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go out with me sometime." My smile widens. "Like a date?" I inquire, a hint of anticipation in my voice. There's a momentary pause on the other end. "Yeah, a date," Preston confirms. My cheeks flush involuntarily. "Yes, I would love to go on a date with you. When and where?" I hear some background noise on the call. "How about tomorrow at... the park! The one on 33rd street. Around ten?" he suggests. I nod, even though he can't see me. "That sounds perfect. I'll meet you there," I reply as I tie up the trash bag. "Awesome. I'll see you there then. Bye." We hang up, and I place my phone back with a contented smile. "Please tell me you're going!" Giselle exclaims. I roll my eyes playfully. "Yes, I am going," I assure her. "It's just so nice to see you going out again and not moping around that man who broke your heart," Giselle comments. I nod, acknowledging her words. I'm not completely over it, but I'm taking slow steps toward moving on. I dispose of the dead flowers before returning to work. Giselle continues her tasks, and I immerse myself in thoughts of Preston and our upcoming date. It has been years since my last date.