The vibrant yellow flowers perched on the passenger seat, their half-wilted petals curling delicately at the edges, taunted Iona with their sunny brightness. Each golden blossom felt like a barb piercing into her heart, a painful reminder of the joy that had once been hers but now slipped away like sand through her fingers. This modest bouquet of daisies, mere symbols of affection, represented his favorites—Trent’s—rather than the blooms that brought her genuine joy.
Iona had meticulously chosen these flowers, clinging to the hope of brightening his spirits before their dinner reservation. She had imagined how his face might illuminate with a genuine smile at the sight of them, how he would effortlessly drift into nostalgic tales of the carefree “easy summer days” he associated with those cheerful blooms.
She had reserved a table for two at their favorite local bistro, painstakingly curling her hair into a cascade of soft waves that framed her face perfectly. The fitted dress she had chosen clung to her curves, a size too small but undeniably flattering, leaving her feeling both beautiful and self-conscious. The anticipation had bubbled within her like champagne, sparkling and effervescent, filling her with an exhilarating sense of excitement.
However, thirty-seven soul-crushing minutes into her solitary wait at the restaurant, the familiar vibration of her phone shattered her daydreams, sending her heart plummeting.
Trent🧡: Work emergency. Rain check?
The message was starkly devoid of warmth and empathy. No apologies, no promises for a reschedule—just the cold, clinical “rain check” that echoed with disappointment. Iona stared at the words, willing them to morph into something more hopeful, until the relentless blurring of her vision and rising frustration forced her to lock her phone in a daze. She remained seated, waiting eleven additional minutes, the hope hanging in the air like an unwelcome guest that refused to leave. Deep down, past experiences whispered that Trent would likely remain elusive for days, leaving her in a state of emotional limbo. As she finally exited the restaurant, the waitress cast her a sympathetic smile, one that revealed an unspoken understanding of heartbreak and disappointment. Iona left a generous tip, despite having only sipped water throughout her meal—a small gesture of appreciation for the kindness of the attendant.
Why did she persist in trying? The nagging question echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain. Why did she cling to the hope that the man she once adored could transform back into someone who genuinely cared, rather than remaining a ghost who occasionally replied to her texts? Perhaps it was inertia keeping her in this stifling place, or maybe it was lingering shame. Or perhaps it was the insidious lie that if she loved him perfectly enough, he would eventually remember how to love her back.
Instead of feeling cherished this evening, Iona found herself slumped in the front seat of her car, mascara streaks painting her cheeks like dark rain cascading down a sunlit window.
Then, just when silence threatened to engulf her, the familiar notification made her heart skip a beat—could it be? Was he finally free? Typically more composed, she fumbled through her purse, her pulse racing with anticipation. But when she finally unlocked her phone, eager to see his familiar smiling face, she was greeted instead by the cheerful avatar of Lena, surrounded by snapshots of her vibrant children.
Lena💗: Damn! If I wasn’t married with a baby, I’d be all over that!
Despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside her, a smile broke through Iona’s sadness at Lena’s playful message. Lena, who had rushed headfirst into marriage right out of high school, had just welcomed her third baby into the world, and their moments together had become rare gems amid the demands of adulthood. Yet the playful banter of their occasional texts consistently kept their bond alive.
Iona: It was all for nothing anyway.
The response was immediate and filled with Lena’s trademark enthusiasm—the kind that could slice through despair.
Lena💗: Fuck that!!!! Marley is out tonight.
Iona stared at the screen, contemplating the invitation. It had been months since she had embraced an outing with her friend. As Trent made offhand comments like, “They’re kind of intense,” and “I feel like they keep you in party mode,” her connection with Lena and Marley had faded into the background noise of her life.
With the ghost of self-doubt nibbling at her, she bit her lip, feeling a mix of longing and hesitation as her thumb hovered over the screen. There was a significant chance Marley would brush her off with a dismissive, “Fuck off.” Yet before the paralyzing doubt consumed her, she scrolled through her messages until she found the snapshot of her rainbow-haired friend, grinning wildly and flashing a peace sign after a night out.
Iona: Are you out tonight?
The reply came almost instantaneously, bursting with Marley’s signature exuberance.
Marley♥: Bitch!6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwmCg4B63DA
Marley♥: Where are you and why aren’t you already with me?
Wiping her eyes once more, a genuine smile broke through the remnants of her earlier despair. She was exhausted from shedding tears over a man whose absence felt more pronounced than his presence had ever been. Her friends were ready to embrace a night of fun without the burden of weeks of painstaking planning! Marley and Lena were steadfast in their loyalty, and she was tired of feeling like an afterthought in her own life.
With fierce resolve, Iona snatched the daisies from the passenger seat and tossed them into the back, intent on symbolically letting go of the past. A wave of liberation washed over her as she started the car, the engine roaring to life like her revitalized spirit. Tonight marked not just a change in plans but a much-needed transformation.
“I’m going to stop living for Trent and start living for myself!” Iona declared to the empty car, turning up the radio, letting the uplifting music drown out her lingering doubts and fill her with a renewed sense of possibility.
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