| Roses, Romance's Riddleby Amy Yurkiewicz
Roses, Romance’s Riddle
She heard the door click shut behind her and turned. She didn’t expect to see him standing there, arms held behind his back. The look she gave him was blank. She had long since exhausted all of her emotions on him. Even at his sudden arrival she couldn’t get up the energy to show surprise. He shifted on his feet, glancing at the floor then back at her. His arms came out from behind him and he held out the peace offering. She tilted her head ever so slightly at the extended hand. A very bizarre bouquet of roses gently quivered at her. There were six roses actually, each a different color and each in a different stage of bloom.
“For each year of…us.” He explained uncertainly. The corners of her mouth barely turned down. That wasn’t like him. He didn’t think like that. Hidden meanings, underlining sentiments, romance you had to think about….that wasn’t anything like him. Maybe, once upon a time, when they were first together, he had made her think about the symbolism of a gift but never after that. He was straightforward. He gave her things that she had asked for. He didn’t think spontaneously when it came to romance. He felt that the time-tested ways worked so why deviate?
She was not sure how to take this sudden change. Her mind focused back on the outstretched hand as if in answer. Six roses, different colors, different stages of bloom. There was no way that the colors or stages meant anything. That wasn’t him, he didn’t think like that. But then why the odd bouquet? It wasn’t hard to figure out the pattern, the meaning, if it was really suppose to be there. It made her heart beat faster, butterflies she hadn’t felt in so long fluttered and encouraged her.
The first year, if she was right, was a tight bud of yellow, each petal tipped in red. And, if she was right, again, he was trying to tell her that their first year had been of friendship and falling in love.
Next was a bud just starting to open to the sun’s kiss. It was pink for his happiness and appreciation.
Lavender came with their third year. Enchantment and deep adoration. Had he really felt that?
A rose the color of peachy coral was fourth. Desire and passion. Those had been strong emotions for her that year but if they had been for him too then why did they have year five?
Their most trying year, the year she had given up on a life together, a family, romance and love. A traditional deep red bloom. Courage, respect, sincere love. ‘I still love you.’
The last year was an almost too perfect fully blooming rose. White or cream, the single lamp and several candles made it glow. Unity, sincerity, loyalty, purity, and a love stronger than death.
She fought back the tears. He couldn’t have done this. It was an accident, chance. He didn’t know the meaning of roses or any flowers. He just didn’t think the way to correspond their, forgive her cliché, ‘blooming’ and ‘growing’ relationship with the transition of a rose bud to full bloom. She was tempted to ask him where the black or wilted rose was just to see if he really did know the meaning….and to see if he understood her feelings.
“Look at our last year.” She met his eyes. Desperately she wanted to know if he simply meant for her to think about the past year together…or if he meant that it was indeed their last year together and to remember it. He held the bouquet out to her, taking a small step forward. Or did he just mean look at the sixth rose? She wet her lips and stepped forward. The sixth year was painfully beautiful. There wasn’t a single flaw on it…yet that seemed to be a flaw in itself. The velvet petals fanned to the size of her palm. Without realizing it she had raised tentative fingers to brush at the velvet. Now, so close she could smell the wisps of perfume. It surprised her because she had never thought store bought roses, plants that had been breed for looks mostly, could have beauty and the intoxication scent. It always seemed to be one or the other. She could never have both. Wait, was she still thinking about roses?
“Look into the heart.” Her eyes opened. She blinked. When had she shut her eyes? She glanced at him quickly before peering at the sixth roses again. The heart? Another romantic puzzle? She glanced at his chest, his heart. The rose, it was the quintessential rose. In full bloom but not so open that the pistils and stamen showed. The male and female. The most intimate part even for a flower, for a rose. It was hidden. The heart was hidden. She pursed her lips. She was reading too much into this. She always did.
“Look past the hiding layers to the center.” She could feel his warm breath across her forehead. She blinked again and swallowed. His voice was soft. She missed it.
As delicate as the roses before her she parted the petals that covered the heart. She took in a sharp breath, her eyes widening. Nesting there, perfectly facing her was the outline of a heart. Silver, curving, and two small diamonds twinkled from within the point. Her own heart seemed to stop at the sight of it. Hesitantly she withdrew the heart pendent from its hiding place. No chain was attached. No strings. Her moist eyes found his again, searching. She hadn’t seen his eyes twinkle like that in so long, or the boyish upturn of his lips. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a fragile sliver chain. He offered her the roses again. She took them hesitantly and he opened his now free hand to her.
“Only if you want to.” He whispered softly. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, looking at his hand. The pendent soon winked up at her from his palm. Easily, as if practiced, he slipped the pendent onto the chain. He held it up, one end between fingers of each hand. It twisted and swung, taking several uncertain moments to settle.
“May I?” Again, soft. She nodded slowly, still biting her lip. He moved to step behind her and she moved to turn her back to him. They moved in the perfect sync that she had thought lost.
His arms descended over her head and she raised her now pendent free hand to sweep her hair away from her neck. The heart was warm against her skin. His hands, once they finished securing the chain’s clasp, smoothed over the back of her shoulders. They moved slowly down her arm, waiting for protest. When none came, his arms slid around her, hugging her at the waist. Her arms were pinning down but it was easy to shift them so she could rest her forearms over his. She looked down at the roses, still in her hand, and his arms around her. She sucked in a breath at the feel of him nuzzling her neck. He kissed the chain against her skin.
“I’m sorry.” She shivered. She hadn’t felt his warmth on her neck in too long a time. “So, so, sorry.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss across her shoulder. His fingers shifted to encircle her arm, pulling her closer. She let her eyes close, leaning back into him. Her head rested back on his shoulder and he kissed her jaw.
“I love you.” The whisper was hers and she wasn’t surprised.
“As I love you, Always and Forever.” An equal whisper, warm and soft against her salty cheeks. He had captured her completely. Even before this. She had been hurt and broken and she still was….but nothing would ever change her love for him. He was a part of her that no one could ever change or touch. She honestly did not want a life without him, but she didn’t want the pain that she had felt in the past year either. Her fingers wiggled up to touch the pendent. He had been hurt too. She had tried everything from her childish rationality to exactly as he'd asked. And still they had both hurt. That’s why she had walked away. There had been no logical or happily compromise-able answer to end the pain. But then he did this. It didn’t fix things. But it started.
“I asked them to keep the leaves on. Do you know why?” She shook her head gently, not wanting him to move his cheek from against hers, and sniffled. “Rose leaves mean Hope.” Silent tears trailed down her cheeks, wetting his as well.
“Hope…” she swallowed down the emotions in her throat. This, this was what she needed and wanted. Hope….. Her eyes fell on the roses. A romance riddled with hope.
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