In the Language of the Flowers

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✾ Sweet Pea ✾

I was in Florida. God forsaken, Satan's vacation home Florida. Home of alligators, retirees, and sadness. It used to be different. I used to like the place. But now all I wanted was the noise and business of New York. 

"Hey," I said, dropping my bag in the doorway. He looked like a kid on Christmas. He lunged toward me, maybe trying for a hug, but I flinched away. I couldn't help it. It felt like I was being disloyal to the version of me I wanted to be. Actually, I'd felt that way since stepping out of our apartment.

And something about the Liam now was repulsive to me. I remember thinking that the parts of Liam I hated were the parts that reminded me of me. The parts that reminded me of my dad. I couldn't get that crazed expression he showed me out of my mind. 

But it was long gone now. He looked hurt that I wouldn't let him touch me.

 "I still haven't forgiven you," I said.

The hurt didn't fade, but he nodded and said, "Right. Sorry."

"What you did wasn't ok," I said. He slowly nodded. "Why am I here, Liam?" I asked.

He stepped aside and gestured for me to walk inside. I wondered how he had even gotten in. Even if he'd kept the key all these years—which I wouldn't put past him now that he'd revealed himself to be soft psychopath—the locks had been changed. I swear if I walked in and found a broken window somewhere...

"Oh, how generous of you to invite me into my own house," I snapped, walking past him.

"Well, it's not your house, is it? It's your dad's."

I froze, turning to look at him. "Are you fucking-"

"Sorry, that was unnecessary." He shook his head and raised his hands defensively as if I might attack him and not the other way around.

"Whatever," I said, heading further into the house. It definitely brought back memories. Not good ones, but they were still there. I couldn't find a surface that Liam and I hadn't had sex on or near so I just stood in the kitchen. I crossed my arms to make it seem as though I didn't want to be here.

"I'm glad you came, Ren," he said gingerly.

I glared at him. "I shouldn't be here."

"Then why are you here?"

A very good question. I couldn't answer. "I think I should just go back to New York now and pretend none of this ever happened."

"You do that and I'm going to the cove."

I stared at him. "You're not serious about this, are you?" He tensed and looked away from me. I felt angry. "What are you doing?"

"I needed time with you."

I rubbed my eyes. "Jesus."

"I'm not in a good place." He looked tired. "The cove was just..." I thought of the craggy rock formation surrounding the cove, about the dangerous currents that could easily drag someone down under. 

"Stop talking like that."

"I can't. How would your little kid feel if he couldn't have you? He'd do the same thing, from what I've heard."

I inhaled sharply like he'd just physically stabbed me with his sentence. "He wouldn't." I said it as harshly as I could with as much certainty packed into every syllable as possible. Beau had grown; he had more than just me. For some reason, that thought made me incredibly happy all of a sudden. And despite the disgusting sentiment of Liam's words, the greedy part of me managed to catch that he had called Beau mine. "And he doesn't 'have' me. I don't know what you're talking about."