ead beneath the shade of the neem tree, and for lavender clippings arranged in recycled jam jars across the windowsill

can, a question about soil, or sometimes, with nothing at all. The conversations were brief, some

e house, Adeline found herself stuck with a thorn. The prick was small, but

ll done, Adelin

uld wear

ned - Nathaniel stood a few feet away,

see you,

ean to snea

produced a handkerchief. It was folded crisply, like a man

a word, she accepted the clot

thing,"

lied. "You shou

else - something softer. She felt it then - the silence between th

offered, trying to dismi

said. "Yo

swept across the garde

e added, gesturing to the restored fl

than people," she replied,

tely. Then, quietly: "You

r a moment, she forgot the garden

athaniel stepped back. "I'll le

scaped before she

pau

your wife," Adeline said, her voi

surprised, perhap

e loved the colour purple. Said it r

ve been re

e w

nd walked away, his strides long and certain, leaving her standing in t

-

ivy. There was something noble in Nathaniel's restraint - and something tragic. She sensed that his grief was not loud, not weeping in c

if hers loo

ning. As always, her voice fi

you? Is the house still standing? Ha

"It's fine. Pea

, suspiciously. "That's how ci

replied, though she wasn

et Nathanie

blinked.

ys smells like thyme

med on her lips.

ndable. A man who still believes in watering flowers and burying grief

nti

we need is not excitement, but st

thaniel had not flirted, had not even smiled much. And yet, something in her had begun