Bee shuffled across the wooden floorboards that had been kissed with the early morning sun, peering through her shop window. It was 7am. Her eyes were heavy, as if she hadn’t been to bed yet. She looked down at the yellow roses she carried. They were so beautiful. She pulled them close to her chest before setting them in a silver bucket of water. Yellow, red, white, lilies, tulips, geraniums; they were all there, but she felt she wasn’t.

 

She took a deep breath, the air felt cold in her lungs. How was she going to afford the shop’s mortgage repayments next month? The divorce proceedings were draining her bank account.

 

Her throat tightened, trapping any words that might want to come out. She picked up a cup of lukewarm coffee from the counter amongst leaves, a hairbrush, and bills. Tears welled up as she looked at the clutter in front of her. The coffee tasted bitter on her tongue, or perhaps that was the thought of seeing her soon to be ex-husband.

 

The lawyers needed one last signature on the divorce papers, and then it would all be over. The notion of sitting across from his cheating face one last time twisted her guts.

 

Her marriage was ending, and the potential of losing her beloved flower shop too sent shivers down her spine. She gripped her coffee mug tighter as the sweet perfume of botanicals tickled
her nose.

 

DING. Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her dressing gown.
'Lunch today darling?’ Read her mother's text. Her mother knew today was a big day. ‘Bellman’s Court Tearoom? It will make you feel better.’