The Roses Wilted at Dusk Chapter 04

Three days before the wedding,

I asked Dashiell Lockwood to come to the office and confirm the final schedule.

He arrived at four in the afternoon. Sunlight cut through the slats of the blinds, dividing my desk into light and shadow.

He stood in the doorway for a while.

I knew what he was looking at.

Half the bookshelf had been emptied. The wall of client photos had been taken down, leaving only tiny nail holes.

On the desk, other than the schedule and a cup of cold tea, there was nothing.

“You’re packing?”

“The transfer happens next month.”

He came in but did not sit.

“You’re not doing this anymore?”

“I’m not renewing.”

“Mr. Lockwood.” I pushed the schedule toward him. “Please confirm three details.”

“Version of the processional, timing of the brooch, final guest list.”

He did not look down at the schedule.

“Audra Ellison, after the wedding, can we talk?”

I picked up a pen, wrote a line in the blank space on the schedule, and turned it toward him.

“Mr. Lockwood, would you like me to add the conversation time to the schedule too?”

The office was quiet. Only the blinds moved lightly in the wind.

He looked at me. Something in his eyes seemed to break.

“Audra Ellison, are you…”

His phone rang.

The screen lit up. The contact name was a heart symbol.

He did not answer right away.

I looked at the symbol, then pushed the schedule forward.

“Please take your call.”

He hesitated for two seconds, then answered.

Tamsin’s voice leaked from the receiver, a little anxious.

“Dashiell, is the white rose brooch with you? I looked through every drawer and couldn’t find it.”

“It’s not with me. It should be…”

He looked at me.

I took the velvet box from the drawer and pushed it to his hand.

“It’s here. Ms. Calder asked me to keep it after the fitting.”

He stared at the velvet box and did not take it at once.

“Mr. Lockwood, don’t misplace the bride’s things again.”

When he picked up the box, his fingertips brushed the back of my hand.

Only for an instant.

Then he withdrew his hand, put the box into his pocket, and stood.

At the door, he stopped.

“I’ll review the schedule when I get back. If there are issues, I’ll email you.”

“Okay.”

“Audra Ellison.”

“Yes?”

His back was to me, the line of his shoulders tight.

After several seconds of silence, he said,

“Nothing.”

The door closed.

I listened to his footsteps fade, the elevator doors open and close, and then the whole floor went quiet.

Outside the window, the sycamore shadows stretched long.

I took two boxes I had packed in advance from the cabinet.

I removed the office key from my key ring and placed it into a kraft paper envelope with the transfer agreement and the vendor handoff sheets.

Finally, I opened the drawer and took out a copy of the guest list.

I turned to the last page.

Audra Ellison, ex-girlfriend.

I took my pen and signed my initials beside that line with a bold, final stroke.

The black ink cut across the white paper, quiet and final, declaring the end.

I sealed the envelope, placed it on the front desk, and left a sticky note for Marlowe.

[Materials are in Cabinet Three. The key is in the envelope. Once the final payment comes in, process the final payouts for everyone.]

My suitcase leaned by the door. I had dragged it from home the night before.

I looked one last time at the wedding planning office.

There was still a nail hole in the wall from the day we opened. I had hammered it in myself.

Back then, Dashiell had helped me move the desk and said this spot had the best light.

Four years.

I had planned more than two hundred weddings here and sent off more than two hundred couples.

For the final one, I sent him off.

When I dragged my suitcase out the door, a sycamore leaf fell onto my shoulder.

I did not look back.

The Uber was already waiting by the curb.

“Airport, please.”

Three hours later, the plane landed.

A new city. An unfamiliar terminal.

I turned my phone back to normal mode.

Messages flooded in like mad.