Page 53 of Unforgettable
“On my honor, I will do my best to –“
She nudged him and stepped to the side, chuckling as she spoke.
“Boy Scout oath, really!”
“Wait, there’s more – to be morally straight and help other people at –“
She couldn’t contain her laughter and remarked.
“That’s not how it goes.”
“Give a guy a break. It’s been twenty some years.”
He deserved every break she could possibly muster. He lightened her world when he entered, treated her like she was worthy, looked at her like she was treasured, made her feel emotions that had lain buried since she was twelve years old.
How can I say no to him?
She heard her mother’s voice in her head.
“Take the chance, honey.”
She nodded slowly and happy that she did, as his smile was electric enough to light up a Christmas tree.
CHAPTER 12
The roses arrived just after noon.
Randi hadn’t been expecting anything, and for a moment she simply stood in the doorway, staring at the bouquet as if it might vanish if she blinked. It was a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses the female delivery girl held out for Randi to take from her.
The woman smiled and tilted her head as Randi stood stunned looking at them.
“Are you Randi Cabel?”
Randi’s response was simply a nod as she continued to stare, each petal soft, vibrant, filled with a warmth that felt almost personal.
“Glad I made your day delivering these beauties.” Sheextended the bouquet and winked. “Enjoy them.”
Randi carefully accepted them, balancing the vase against her hip as she maneuvered them inside, her movements slower than they once were but far more controlled than even a week ago. She placed them on her kitchen counter and noticed a card was tucked neatly between the stems. She pulled it free, her pulse already shifting before she read the words.
Thank you for saying yes. Formal attire required. See you tonight at 7 sharp.
A quiet breath escaped her, something between amusement and disbelief.
“Here we go, Mom. Wish me luck, “she silently murmured, shaking her head slightly.
That evening, she stood in front of her mirror longer than she had in years.
Formal attire.
The phrase alone felt unfamiliar, almost unreal. The only time she had come close to anything resembling it had been the gallery showing - the one she never made it to. Her gaze lingered on her reflection on the dress she had chosen after far too much deliberation. It was simple, understated, but elegant in a way that felt like her… or at least like the version of herself she had once known.
Her eyes drifted briefly to her hand, the hesitation still present, still something she had to push through instead of ignoring.
Apprehension settled in—not about the evening itself, but about what it might mean.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
She opened it.
