Chapter 9 Roses & Regrets
|| Lilac’s POV ||
The morning sun spilled through my curtains, painting my room in soft gold. I stretched, savoring the quiet… rare these days. The past week had left me raw, scraped thin, but I needed to pull myself together. Today was about moving forward.
Then the doorbell rang.
I frowned. Who the hell shows up this early?
Padding downstairs, the marble floor cool under my bare feet, I hesitated before opening the door.
And there he was.
Kael.
Of course.
He stood on my doorstep, those golden eyes glinting like he’d already won something. In his hands? A massive bouquet of roses- deep red, velvety, expensive. The kind he used to bring me every time he screwed up.
My stomach twisted.
Back then, I’d thought it was romantic. Sweet, even. In my past life, this was his way to win me back. His every mistakes were covered up behind a beautiful bouquet or an expensive gift. Now? I knew better. It wasn’t an apology. It was a reset button. A way to erase whatever he’d done, wrapped in pretty paper and thorns.
“Good morning, Lilac.” His voice was smooth, effortless. He held out the flowers like an offering. “Thought these might brighten your day.”
I stared at them, my pulse thudding in my ears. How many times had I fallen for this? Taken the roses, swallowed the excuses, let him back in?
Not this time.
Without a word, I plucked the bouquet from his hands. His smile widened- like he thought he still had me.
Then I turned and dumped them straight into the trash.
The thud was stupidly satisfying.
For a heartbeat, Kael just… blinked. His perfect mask slipped- just a fraction, but I caught it. The flicker of surprise. The tightening of his jaw.
“I take it you’re not a fan of roses? I thought you loved them before,” He chuckled, but his voice had an edge now.
“I hate them,” I said flatly. “They are overrated. Cliché.”
Another laugh, but his shoulders were tense, “Noted. How about lunch, then? To make up everything.”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but before I could, he dropped to one knee.
for…
“Lilac.” His voice softened, that damn sincerity coating every word. “I’m sorry. For everything. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I took it out on you. That was wrong. It won’t happen again.”
My chest tightened. Here we go.
I needed to play this right. Keep him close enough to avoid suspicion, but not so close he’d sink his claws back in.
“Fine,” I said, forcing indifference. “But I’m picking the place.”
His smile returned, relief flashing in his eyes as he stood, “Whatever my princess wants.”
The restaurant Kael insisted on was exactly the kind of place Kael loved- all crystal chandeliers and stiff white tablecloths, where the waiters moved like they’d been trained by spies.
I hated it. And see how he didn’t let me pick a place! That’s how he was, manipulation was his second nature and I let him this time.
We sat by the window, sunlight gilding the silverware. Kael ordered for us both, like he still knew what I liked. I clenched my teeth and let him.
“So,” he said, leaning back, studying me. “How have you been? Really.”
“Oh, you know,” I said, swirling my water glass. “Living the dream. Dodging scandals, avoiding floral tributes- the usual.”
He laughed, low and warm. “God, I’ve missed that sharp tongue of yours.”
“I’m sure you’ve missed a lot of things,” I shot back. “Like basic human decency.”
His smile flickered, but he recovered fast.
“Touché.” He raised his wineglass in a mock toast. “But seriously, Lilac. I want to fix this. You and
me- we’re meant to be.”
“Meant to be?” I arched a brow. “That’s a bold claim. What if I told you I don’t believe in fate? Besides, fate has nothing to do with us.”
connected.”
I smirked. “What I feel is indigestion. Maybe it’s the pretentious bread.”
Kael laughed–genuine this time. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said dryly. “But at least I’m not boring.”
“You’re not,” he agreed, his gaze softening. “You’re… extraordinary. And I don’t want to lose that.”
A prickle of unease ran down my spine. The worst part? He almost sounded like he meant it.
Almost.
“Well, you’re not losing me,” I said lightly. “Because you never had me to begin with.”
1
His smile faded, “Lilac, I know I messed up. But I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just tell me what you need.”
What I needed was for him to vanish. But I couldn’t say that. Not yet.
“What I need,” I said slowly, “is time. To figure out what I want. And until then, I need you to back off.”
He studied me, then nodded. “Fair enough. But I’m not giving up.”
I forced a smile, “Wouldn’t expect you to.”
The rest of lunch was a dance–him pushing, me deflecting. By the time he dropped me off, I was exhausted.
But this wasn’t over.
And I’d be damned if I let him win.
