Kelsey arrived home from school. The door was decorated from top to bottom in
flowery romantic poetry. This was the
third day in a row that she had come home to Tom’s gifts plastered outside her
apartment. Just like the previous times,
she ignored the peace offering and walked inside letting the door slam behind
her. It was petty, but satisfying.
The next week Tom stepped up his game. Entering the apartment, Kelsey was met by the
sight of roses. Not just a dozen roses,
but at least five dozen roses in every hue imaginable. On the kitchen table was a box of extremely
expensive chocolates with a note beside them.
Unsurprisingly, it was from Tom, evidenced by his elegant
handwriting. It read, “Dear Kelsey. I’m
sorry. Can we please talk? Yours always,
Tom.” She set the brief note down, her
emotions warring within her. Should she face him?
The day after the roses brought nutella and specialty hot
chocolate mixes, along with a similar note.
Then the next day was a vase of sunflowers, again with the note begging
for a meeting. The following day
resulted in a box jewelry set – matching pearl earrings, a necklace, and a
bracelet. And a note. Finally Kelsey couldn’t take it any
longer. She stalked out of the apartment,
the collection of notes written by Tom held in one tight fist. She was sure he was around somewhere (or he
had people keeping an eye on the apartment, anyway). Standing there with one hand on her hip, she
held the notes up and beckoned slightly, then returned to the apartment, a tall
figure following behind her.
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