he said, “I met you in the florist’s where you worked. I was picking out flowers for a friend of mine who recently got a job promotion, and I went with red roses. You asked me if they were for my girlfriend.” He chuckled. “When I told you who they were for, you almost passed out. You were adamant that red roses represented love and that I’d be giving my friend the wrong signals if I sent them to her.”
I chuckled. “Flowers have meanings: they speak louder than words.”
“You said something similar back then,” Anderson mused. “You called me a silly billy. I laughed, and when you realised you’d said it out loud, you got all embarrassed. You were shy, I knew that from the start, but you were comfortable when you spoke with me. I asked for your number as you wrapped up yellow roses for me and that was our beginning.”
I exhaled a breath, trying to figure out how to process the information I had been given. For some reason, I’d expected to feel something to indicate what Anderson meant to me once I heard of how we came to be, but I felt nothing. It was odd having a man who was my husband tell me how we met. I knew I was supposed to feel love for this man – or at the very least, physical attraction – but I felt nothing.
It felt harsh, because Anderson was clearly going through a tough time because of me. He seemed like a wonderful man, like someone who really cared about me, but my heart didn’t know him. He had been wiped from it after my accident. Elliot was the only man who remained, but I found myself wondering if that was just a cruel twist of fate. I wasn’t with Elliot for a reason, and Anderson claimed Elliot had broken my heart and that I didn’t want him . . . Maybe I was in love with Anderson, and leaving Elliot had been the best choice for me.
My mind was so messed up because trying to think logically hurt my head. My gut told me Elliot was still my person and that Anderson was not, but I didn’t know whether I could trust my instincts. Not having my memory meant I couldn’t trust anyone, not even myself.
“Did we date right away?” I asked Anderson as I leaned back against my pillow. “What happened next?”
“We texted back and forth for a while before we went on our first date. Only to the cinema to see an Avengers film, but afterwards we went for dinner and then walked around town since it was a beautiful evening. We laughed so much that night over the dumbest of things that we could barely walk. I knew you were special that night and I knew you’d be the one I’d marry.”
I had always wanted to be married, to be in a secure and loving relationship. It seemed obvious to me that I must have found love and happiness with Anderson – I wouldn’t have married him otherwise – but to the person I was right now, that didn’t mean a whole lot. It didn’t make me automatically love Anderson, but it did make me a little more open to him. I had shut him down before completely, because of shock and because I couldn’t see past Elliot, but I had to be realistic instead of optimistic.
I loved Elliot, but I had to prepare myself for the possibility that we didn’t have a future together – no matter how much it hurt me to admit that to myself.
“One of the first things you told me that night was that my eyes reminded you of a black dahlia at first glance, because they’re so dark.”
I snorted. “Sounds like me.”
“You’re a visual person.” He smiled in agreement. “You can’t help but compare people to things you enjoy seeing.”
I had never realised that about myself, but Anderson was right. I mostly did that with people’s eyes. I always compared the eyes of a person to something visual that I liked. Elliot’s eyes reminded me of the ocean, my dad’s reminded me of emeralds, my mum’s reminded me of the sky, and Anderson’s did remind me of black dahlias, now that I had got a good look at them.
“I just learned something new about myself,” I said thoughtfully. “I like that.”