Before Dinner
It was a quiet evening, the kind where time seemed to move slower perfect for the night she'd been waiting for. She sat in the living room, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the cushion beside her, the TV playing softly in the background. Tonight was a special date they had planned for weeks, the first time in ages they'd finally have uninterrupted hours together. Just the two of them, no meetings, no deadlines, just blissful company and quiet intimacy.
She had chosen her dress carefully. A long, wine-colored gown that clung gracefully to her figure, its deep V-neck revealing just enough of her collarbone to feel alluring yet still comfortable. The sleeves, sleek and fitted, trailed elegantly down to her elbows enough to keep her warm without the burden of a coat that would hide the dress's beauty. Paired with her golden heels, she felt stunning radiant even.
But as the evening stretched on, excitement gave way to unease. She glanced at the clock an hour past when he was supposed to be home. Her thoughts began to wander.
What if he forgot?
That thought landed heavily in her chest. Memories stirred memories she tried so hard to bury.
She remembered the sharp sting of disappointment from her childhood moments when she'd waited, hopeful, only to be left behind. The school performance where she had searched the crowd with desperate eyes, guitar in hand, believing they would come. The way she clung to that hope, playing each note with trembling fingers, convinced her parents would arrive just in time. But they never did. And when she asked why when she dared to question their absence she had been scolded, told it wasn't important enough to make a fuss over.
What if tonight was like that too?
The sound of the front door unlocking startled her from her thoughts. She turned, heart pounding, as he rushed inside breathless, hair slightly tousled from the wind. He looked panicked, almost frantic.
"I'm so sorry," he said between breaths, "I didn't mean to be late... but I.. I wanted to surprise you."
She blinked, confused, as he reached into his bag. He hesitated before pulling out a bundle wrapped carefully in paper. The stems peeked out from the bottom dark, rich hues of wine and purple.
"They're fresh... and they still have their roots," he said softly. "I thought... maybe you could plant them."
Orchids. Wine-colored orchids, the ones she had once gushed about, describing their rare beauty and how difficult they were to find. She had mentioned it weeks ago, in passing just a fleeting comment. Yet somehow, he remembered.
"I saw them on the way home," he continued, voice unsure. "The shop was closing, and they were clearing everything out... they were going to toss them, so I.. I couldn't leave them behind."
Her vision blurred as tears welled up. She clutched the flowers tightly, the paper crinkling beneath her fingers.
"You remembered..." Her voice cracked.
"Of course I remembered." His eyes softened, but his smile faltered when he saw her tears. Panic flickered in his gaze. "Wait... why are you crying? Did I mess something up?"
"No," she whispered, her voice shaky. "They're happy tears." She set the flowers down carefully before reaching for his hand. "No one's ever cared enough to remember... not like this."
He exhaled a breath of relief before pulling her into his arms, holding her close. His warmth melted away the chill that lingered in her thoughts.
"Nothing in my life is more important than you," he murmured, his lips brushing her hair. "Everything about you, every little detail matters to me."
For the first time in a long while, she felt truly seen.
When he finally pulled away, she watched as he disappeared into the bedroom to change. When he returned, she couldn't help but stare.
He had matched her. A wine-colored turtleneck hugged his frame, its shade mirroring her dress perfectly. Paired with sleek black formals, he looked effortlessly handsome, sharp yet thoughtful. Gold accents shimmered faintly against his wrist, and on his finger the ring she had once gifted him gleamed proudly.
"I remembered you said you'd be wearing wine red tonight," he said with a sheepish smile. "Figured I'd try to match... you know, to make it feel special."
Her chest tightened, warmth spreading from her heart to her fingertips.
"You look perfect," she said softly.
He grinned, slipping his arms around her waist. "So do you."
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's warmth, she realized this was what love felt like, not just the grand gestures, but the quiet moments. The ones where someone remembers the things you thought no one noticed the small details that whisper, I know you. I see you. I love you.
And in that moment, that was all she needed.
