Love Letters and Literature

A Little Time and Roses

Thomas canceled class that following Monday because he was ill. I wasn't exactly surprised though since I doubt he lives any where near that park.

I shouldn't have made him walk home. I should have invited him inside and told him the truth.

I should have taken that kiss inside and turned it into more.

I should have laid everything bare out on the table but I didn't, and now I'm sitting in a heap of self pity as I shovel cereal into my mouth and watch chick flicks.

"Maria, you are my everything. I would never lie to you and say that there was someone else when there wasn't!"

"Oh Enrique!"

Is it me or is this movie strangely specific?

I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand then check the time on my phone.

It's five thirty pm and Valentine's Day.

What a sad existence my life is.

Fiona is on a date with Clara and my only date is a cup of coffee and Netflix.

I turn this garbage movie off and throw my head back onto my pillow.

It's been seven days since I ended things with Thomas and seven days since we've kissed. It was absolutely phenomenal but also forbidden.

We've kept up appearances in class. We pretty much pretend it didn't happen, but every once in a while he glances my way with this far off look like he's reliving it over and over in his mind.

The thoughts make my knees weak but I know I have to get over him.

I thought I would have to block his number, but he never responded after I said there was someone else. At least he has his pride, he's not a beggar.

I get up to pour myself another cup of coffee but a knock on my door stops me in my tracks.

Could it be Thomas? He knows where I live now, but why would he be here?

I look down at what I'm wearing and cringe.

A night shirt and sweat pants.

I begrudgingly go to my door to confront the intruder, and I'm met with a huge bouquet of at least three-dozen roses.

"Holy crap!" I yell, and the delivery guy maneuvers the flowers so that he can see me.

"Delivery for Sophia?"

"Yeah, that's me."

The guy hands me my flowers and the attached card then goes on his merry way.

I struggle to bring the roses inside but when I do I set them on my coffee table. They're beautiful but also obnoxious. What am I supposed to do with 36 roses?

I open the card and my eyes almost bug out of my head.

"Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful. I'm picking you up at seven, wear something nice and be prepared to be wooed.
-Love Michael
Ps: I know you aren't busy, I checked with Fiona first.

I have an hour and a half to go from looking like table crumbs to a snack? What fresh hell is this?

I don't really even feel like going out but what choice do I have? He already knows I'm sitting at home like a lonely old spinster.

I throw my face into my hands and groan.

Fine, I'll go on this date but if he thinks he's getting any he's in for a rude awakening.