‘Here,’ Bridget says, plucking the card from the foliage. She opens it and reads the message. ‘Happy graduation.’ Then she lowers her brows as she flips it over. ‘No name.’
I take it from her and check it for myself. Two words with no name. And now my heart’s thrumming away like that means something.
‘Tamsin?’ Bridget asks, shoving the door open.
Tamsin, of course. Who else would buy me flowers? She’s the only person who wasn’t there who I told about it. ‘I’ll call her later to thank her.’
Bridget puts the flowers in a Mason jar because we don’t own a vase. ‘Where do you want them?’
‘Bedroom.’ I take them from her and carry them into my room, placing them on the desk that I sit at when I’m making jewellery. I sink down onto the bed and stare at them for the longest time. I flinch when my phone rings in my pocket. It’s Tamsin.
‘Hey, you,’ she says when I answer.
‘Hey.’
‘Sorry it’s been a while. Tell me all your news.’
After chatting for a few minutes, it becomes clear that she’s forgotten about my graduation. I have to ask her to be sure. ‘This might be an odd question, but did you by any chance send me flowers today?’
The silence on the end of the line answers me. ‘Oh God, what have I missed?’
‘Nothing. Never mind.’
There’s an intake of breath. ‘Your graduation.’ She groans. ‘Sorry. How was it?’
I can’t look away from the flowers. ‘It was great, actually.’
We chat for a while longer, and when I hang up, I lie down on the bed.
Two years of missing him. Two long years.
‘Nightcap?’ Bridget calls from the kitchen.
I close my eyes for a moment, then, with enormous effort, push myself up.
‘Make it a large one.’
It’s a celebration, after all.