They were already everywhere when I noticed.
On the table. By the window. Lining the counter like they’d been there all along.
I laughed, not because it was funny, but because it felt right. The kind of right you don’t question. You just accept it and move on with your day.
I walked through my apartment slowly, stepping around roses like they were furniture. I brushed past one with my hip. Another leaned against the wall, unapologetic.
I didn’t wonder who sent them or why. That part felt obvious. What stayed with me was how natural it all felt. Like my life had simply decided to be generous today.
There was a time when something like this would’ve felt excessive. Or suspicious. Or like I needed to react correctly. Now it just felt… fitting.
I poured a drink. I adjusted one bouquet so it caught the light better. I kept living.
Twenty bouquets of roses don’t change a woman.
They just reflect where she already is.
And where I am feels very good.