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and operated by one Elly Jordan. These days, when she awoke at seven to the sounds of an obnoxious radio deejay and lifted her head weakly from the pillow, her first thought was of work.

      It always was, these days. She lived and breathed for Posies, and at times it seemed everything she thought about or did revolved around her shop. Honestly, it was pretty pathetic. Of course, most mornings she went back to bed for another hour or so after the alarm went off, but eventually she would descend from her tidy apartment to the store below, her bright blue eyes glazed over with sleep, her flip-flops smacking the stairs as she flipped on the lights, a toasted breakfast tart hanging out of her mouth.

      It never failed to make her heart swell as she looked around Posies and knew that all of this was hers. For just a minute, she enjoyed the warm breeze fluttering through the windows, and tried to enter into a peaceful Zen-like state. It never worked, so Elly gave an amused shrug and started her morning routine anyway. She began with a quick cleaning: the windows, the design table, and the front door all got wiped down and things were put into their correct places. She pulled open and swagged the curtains, and picked up any leftover stems or dropped leaves off the carpet. This morning, after she made sure that the cooler temperature had stayed steady as she snored the night away, Elly grabbed a small arrangement of orange ranunculus and plodded out the front door, finally ready to face the world outside of Posies, which was so warm and safe.

      She walked up the block and entered Ada’s Coffee. Brita, the ridiculous barista, greeted her with more sunshine than Elly was prepared to handle.

      “Good morning, Elly!” she chirped.

      Elly nodded tiredly in return and suppressed an eye roll. She was not her optimal self before 10:00 a.m. Mornings were rough. She set the flowers on the bar, almost knocking over a steaming latte, and took the old vase filled with decaying veronicas and bachelor buttons, and stuck it under her arm. There was a spot of coffee on her blouse. The barista looked over at her.

      “Elly! You are so funny! Every day when you come in here you either spill something or have a stain on your shirt! It’s like you’re a toddler. I think it’s adorable.”

      Elly sighed.

      “Good morning to you, Brita.”

      The barista smiled brightly.

      “Hot chocolate today?”

      Elly nodded.

      “Yup. Same as yesterday … same as every day.”

      Amnesia, thought Elly. Brita beamed at her.

      “Those flowers are sooo amazing. I just love looking at them. You must love your job.”

      Elly cringed inside.

      “Yeah, I do. But it’s not always just flowers and—”

      The front bell chimed and Brita jumped to the welcome.

      “Hi! Welcome to Ada’s Coffee!”

      Elly was still finishing her sentence and suddenly found herself talking to no one. She hated when she was caught trailing off alone. Awkward. She sighed and looked around the coffee shop, taking in dozens of couples enjoying their morning brew. It was here, two years ago, that she had met her best friend; it was here, that she had decided to stay. She inhaled the rich aroma of burnt beans and was taken instantly back those two years, to the day that changed her life. The day she met Kim.

      Elly had arrived in St. Louis exactly two days after her overly dramatic departure from Georgia. Eyes puffy with tears and travel, hair a ponytailed mess and her mind in tatters, she somehow steered her way into an upper-class neighborhood coffee shop and ordered a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. She looked around anxiously. All she truly wanted was to get back into her car and drive until she collapsed. An adorable blond girl behind the counter looked at her, confusion written across her pretty face.

      “Extra whipped cream. Really? Do you know it already comes with whipped cream? That would add about 100 calories.”

      Elly snarled and heard a muffled laugh behind her. Ready for an argument that she would no doubt win in her crazy state of mind, she spun around and came face to face with one of the most stunning women she had ever seen. She let out a low gasp. Long brown hair with golden highlights flowed over tan freckled shoulders, and big sea-glass eyes with thick mahogany lashes peered out from a flawless, makeup-free face. She was as tall and lean as Elly was short and, well, somewhat rotund. Instantly intimidated by such beauty, she whirled back on the counter girl.

      “Do you have a problem with that? Do you have a problem with people who order extra whipped cream?”

      The girl looked taken aback.

      “No, no ma’am, it’s fine.”

      She looked at Elly with the kind of pity reserved only for the chubby and dirty. Elly was about to attack when she felt a cool hand on her shoulder.

      The beautiful woman whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, it’s not you; I come here every day and Einstein behind the counter here gets my order confused every … single … time.”

      Elly’s anger melted. For the first time in forty-eight hours, she smiled.

      Elly got her hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream piled haphazardly across the top, and sat down at a small table by the window. She was startled when the radiant woman sat down across from her like they were old friends.

      “Hi, I’m Kim,” she said as she stuck out her hand. Elly shook it. “I can’t stand this place, but I’m hooked. If I don’t have my latte every day, I’m a miserable beast.”

      Elly watched her as she silently stirred her drink, totally unaware of the oddness of this interaction. She suddenly smiled.

      “Where are you from? You look like you’ve come a long way,” as if Elly needed reminding how she looked … and felt. Here she was, dirty, probably smelly, and wearing gray track pants and a black camisole that had a pumpkin on it. Her mascara had run away from her eyes a long time ago and her hair was full of grease. Elly’s exodus in the car had hit her like a brick in the face.

      “Um … ,” she paused and willed herself not to let hot tears run down her face. This was the moment she knew would come. Would she lie about her past? Would she start fresh? Pretend it never happened? She opened her mouth to lie, but the truth rushed out in its place.

      “I’ve been driving for days. Honestly, I don’t really even know what day it is. My husband … he….” The tears had started flowing. Crap. “He is … ,” she waved her hand around, agitated, unable to say it. “I’m not ready to talk about it. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I just left Georgia. My house, my job, my friends … and now I’m here. I don’t know if I’m driving to California or Washington or maybe over a cliff, I don’t know.” She let out a strangled sob. “I can’t even think about what I left. I thought that if I went away that I could pretend it didn’t happen, but now I’m just thinking that this was the dumbest decision ever and that I will never be able to repair what he broke. Which it turns out, was me.” Elly put her palms over her eyes and shook her head.

      “I’m sorry. I must seem like an insane person.”

      Elly heard a smile in Kim’s voice as she replied, “A little, but please, keep going.”

      Afraid to look up, Elly kept her face down.

      “I’m—no, was—a secretary for a large shipping company. I was good at my job—executive secretary to the president. I’m pretty sure he couldn’t live without me. It was good pay, vacations even. I was saving up to buy a nice house in this suburb that was just … perfect. I thought I had everything I ever wanted. Then I met Aaron.” It was the first time in days that she had said his name. It caught in her throat like a lemon drop. “I met Aaron and he was totally different.”

      He was like a light that I didn’t know was out in me, she thought to herself. Kim nodded, knowingly.

      “I fell in

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