Dried and Dying Roses (BWWM)

Twelve: No Bueno

Twelve

Isa was reading a book behind the front counter of Sweetie's when her phone buzzed signaling a text message.

It was Adrian.

She scoffed, but couldn't ignore the need to see what he had said to her for the first time in four months. Isa still hadn't gotten the man out of her head.

I'm sorry, Isa. Was all the text said, but Isa had to reread it four different times to actually believe that Adrian Lew, the biggest asshole she knew was really apologizing to her.

It was true.

Shaking her head, Isa put the phone down, but wasn't able to read any farther into her book. Adrian had stumped her.

Isa hadn't physically seen the man, or even spoken to him, but he slept with her every night. Yes, he still came over. Isa had changed her locks three different times, but every time, he still got in somehow. She only knew he had come to sleep in her bed because it was still warm on his side-the side Isa didn't sleep on- every morning when she woke up, that side neat and made. She'd tried staying up late to catch him, but she never could.

He'd reached out to her, though. He had to have known how fed up Isa was with him.

Picking up the phone, it weighed heavily in Isa's hand as she stared down at it, but no matter how long she held onto the device, she couldn't bring herself to actually respond to him. He'd hurt her too much, and Isa wasn't one to hold a grudge, but she wouldn't- no couldn't let what he had done to her go.

She had scars from when he had bitten her so roughly to remind her of him every time she caught her reflection, she had the scars on her legs from being pushed out of his car. Adrian had left her reminders.

She couldn't ever forget about him.

She thought of him every day.

Hell, it had taken him four months to apologize for throwing her out of his car, he didn't care. He just wanted to have sex with her.

He only wanted her for her body.

Isa wiped her eyes, glad the store was empty today as she brushed away the tears that he always seemed to bring to her eyes, even when he wasn't there.

The door rang, signaling a customer entering, and a frail, freckled boy came to the front desk, dropping the large bouquet of dead roses (Her favorite) on her counter, "Miss, are you Isa?" He asked.

Isa nodded frowning at the boy, "I am. Who are these from?"

"Uh," The boy glanced down at a sheet of paper in his hand, "Mr. Lew. He said you liked them like this."

"Excuse me, who?" Isa asked again, eyes wide with shock as she stared at the flowers.

The boy looked at her, then down at the paper once more, "Mr. Adrian Lew, ma'am."

"Okay, thank you," Isa smiled distractedly at the boy, staring at the flowers in shock.

Isa had never told him that dead roses were her favorite, and he definitely had never asked.

What the hell was going on?

Isa locked up the store, flicked off the lights, and made her way to the back, where she placed the roses on her desk before sitting down.

He was messing with her head, again.

If Adrian thought that just because he got Isa her favorite flowers, she'd sleep with him, he was stupid. He wasn't getting by that easy. They were beautiful though, the dried, and dying white roses on her desk. There was a tag on the side, that Isa pulled off, reading it to herself.