Before I can dwell, and start to hyperventilate, Chase takes me to the bedroom and keeps me up the rest of the night, “christening” (his words, of course) my new home, bed, shower, floor…

“It’s yellow.” The attendant snaps her gum at me, her bored eyes skimming the people behind me. This one is new, Brittney is her name. I already want to yell at her.

“I didn’t ask for yellow,” I seethe through clenched teeth. “I asked for Goldfinch.”

“I accidentally typed in the code for Golden Honey,” she tells me, blowing a bubble, as if this makes it any fucking better. “I can’t tell a difference, honestly.”

Like her opinion fucking matters to me.

“I found those paintbrushes,” Tori chirps as she comes up behind me.

Ignoring her, I glare at Brittney. “Goddammit, just make another can!”

Her eyes widen before she snatches the phone. “Yeah, um, I need a manager. Yep, an irate customer.”

I’m visibly shaking when Tori forces me to turn toward her. Her blonde hair has been swept into a messy bun and she’s gorgeous. It simmers my rage marginally.

“Chase, honey, calm down,” Tori tells me, planting a kiss on my lips.

I groan and run my fingers through my hair. “I’ll calm down when she gives me what I ordered.”

“Sir, do we have a problem?” an older gentleman asks as he rounds the corner.

Snapping my head in his direction, I hold out the paint swatch to him. “Goldfinch. It’s what I ordered. Golden Honey is what I received. I want a gallon of Goldfinch, eggshell, indoor paint.”

He glances at the newbie and nods. “Brittney, why don’t you go hop on one of those registers while I help this customer.”

I let out a rush of breath and a calmness washes over me.

I will have my fucking Goldfinch.

“I really like Belinda,” Tori says from the passenger seat. Yesterday we ended up painting the wall Goldfinch. Turns out, it’s still the wrong fucking color.

“She’s a good gal,” I agree.

I glance over at Tori all decked out in a casual pair of yoga pants and a tank. She’s so fucking cute when she’s not trying to be a badass lawyer. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been moving her stuff into my house, aside from our trip to our group meeting, and are headed back to her place to grab more.

I’m fucking elated.

But something niggles at my heart.

She knows my past was rough but I never came out and told her about the accident. This girl is my entire damn world, yet she doesn’t know the most critical piece of me that I let crush me each day.

I will tell her.

Tori loves me, unlike Ashley. The one who abandoned me when I needed her most.

Tori promised she will never leave me and I believe that with every part of my soul.

I can do this.

Pulling a U-turn, I take the car back toward the florist. This past Tuesday, the day of my meltdown, I missed taking her flowers. I’ll take Tori with me—show her why I have a gaping hole in my heart.

“Where are we going?” she questions.

I smile at her. “The florist.”

Her face contorts into a confused one.

“They may have daffodils. And if they don’t,” I tease, “I need someone to keep me from doing stupid shit. Now that you officially live with me, you’re that person. Lucky you.”

I chuckle but her lips purse into a firm line. She knows as well as I do that flowers, for me, are a touchy fucking subject. Just like my goddamned yellow wall.

“Chase, maybe we should do this another day. Like Tuesday?” she attempts, her features unreadable.

I glance in the mirror and regard my reflection. Dilated eyes. Clenched jaw. I’m a man on a mission and won’t be deterred.

“We’ll do this and be back before sundown. I can swing through that pizza place we love on the way home. And maybe we can take a hot bath later. My muscles are sore as fuck from carrying that box with all your shoes. Seriously, how many shoes can one woman have? I’m going to have to turn one of the bedrooms into your closet,” I say with a laugh.

She gives in and giggles. “I like the idea of a shoe room. Then, we can go shopping where I can buy more to fill it up.”

We laugh and flirt the entire way to the florist. When they thankfully have daffodils, I buy three bundles this time, we then head to our next destination.

“Where are we going?” she asks again.

I flash her a grin and grip her thigh. “Someplace very special to me, baby. A place I have gone every week for a very long time. Even though I feel sick at having to go, I always leave feeling uplifted. I need to share it with you.”

She nods and squeezes my hand.

As we get on the interstate to head out of the downtown area, I sink back into my seat and lose myself in a memory.

The ground is soft under my feet after an unusually rainy summer. After a ton of begging from my mom, she finally told me where to come. To visit her. Earlier, before coming, I stopped off at the floral shop. I spent far too long in there obsessing over the perfect flowers to bring to her. After an hour of driving the clerk crazy, I finally settled on the daffodils.

They remind me of her dress.

Trotting down the hill, I read each headstone until I find hers.

Tons of flowers litter the grave and I bite back the nausea in my belly. It should have been me, not her.

Life’s not fair.

At least that’s what Mom says.

Setting my daffodils on top of the stone, I then plop down on the fresh dirt, dirtying up my jeans. I’ve only been released from the hospital a few days now but it’s been weeks since the accident. Soon, grass will grow over the dirt beneath me and she’ll forever be sealed away.

My heart fucking aches in my chest.

And when I hear sobbing, I jerk my head to see who is crying. A bitter laugh escapes me when I realize it’s me.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “It should have been me.”

The wind picks up and my head begins to throb. The headaches just won’t fucking quit. Some days I wonder if I’ll die from the explosions in my head that attack without warning now. My doctor claims they’ll go away after some time. When my brain has returned to its normal capacity.

“God,” I cry out into the quiet, warm sky. “Just give me yesterday. Please. Let me go back in time. I won’t go to see Ashley that day. I’ll go to my boring Economics class instead of choosing to skip to see my fiancée.”

Fiancée.

The word on my tongue has a terrible taste.

No fiancée.

Ashley is gone.

And she’s gone too.

Mom was right.

Unfuckingfair!

A howl of bitter sadness wracks through me. I took it all away from her. One normal goddamned day turned out to be the worst day of my existence. My brain has trouble wrapping my head around it all. The doctors tell me it’s okay to feel this way.

It’s not fucking okay.

When I spoke to Mom about reaching out to the family, she bit my head off. It wouldn’t change a damn thing she’d said. It would only cause me more grief and heartache.

I fall onto my back and stare up at the sky. Eventually I close my eyes and cry silently for her, tears soaking my face. Each time I close my eyes. I see her bright, innocent eyes. Her smile.

And then it’s gone.

No matter how much more I try to recall, it’s all I can remember.

Her smile. Her eyes. Her dress.

And then it’s gone.