"Alright. Here's the plan." He reached into the backseat and pulled out a large piece of cardboard. "You're going to stand in front of the arrangement. I'm going to go get Aria. When we come out, you hold this up, read what's written on it, and then you speak from the heart."
I looked at the cardboard. Someone had written“Aria, I’m sorry”on it in elegant script, the letters large enough to read from twenty feet away. On the back, there was a pasted printout of a speech that made me tear up as I read through it.
My throat constricted. "Xavier..."
"Don't get emotional on me yet. Save it for her." He shoved a bag into my hands. Lighter, backup candles, tissues. "Go. Light everything. I'll bring her out in ten minutes."
I climbed out of the car on unsteady legs.
The evening air was warm, tinged with the smell of late summer and car exhaust and something floral from the arrangement ahead. My hands trembled as I lit the candles, one by one, watching the flames flicker to life in their glass prisons.
When I finished, I stepped back to look at what Xavier and Celeste had created.
The string lights formed a canopy of soft gold against the darkening sky. The candles spelled out words on the sidewalk, their flames dancing in the breeze.
FORGIVE ME.
The flowers surrounded everything, bursts of color in the fading light. I recognized them now. Plumeria. The same flowers that had been in Aria's hair the night of the gala.
I pulled the manila envelope from my jacket pocket. Felt the weight of it in my hands, the weight of everything it represented.
Then I waited.
The minutes stretched like taffy. I checked my watch. Checked it again. Shifted my weight from foot to foot, the cardboard sign growing damp where my palms gripped it.
What if she refused to come out? What if Xavier couldn't convince her? What if she saw me through the window and called the police?
Movement near the foundation's entrance.
I turned and saw Xavier, walking backwards, hands raised in a placating gesture, talking rapidly. And behind him, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else on earth, was Aria.
She was wearing a simple blouse and dark pants, her hair pulled back in that practical style she favored. Her expression was guarded, suspicious, and when her eyes landed on me, I watched them go wide.
Xavier shot me an exasperated look over his shoulder.
"Go on," he hissed. "Do the thing."
Right. The thing. The sign. The words I was supposed to say.
I lifted the cardboard with hands that wouldn't stop shaking and began to read.
"Aria." My voice cracked on her name. I cleared my throat, tried again. "I've spent my whole life building walls. You're the first person who ever made me want to... want to tear them down."
She had stopped walking. Stood frozen on the sidewalk, ten feet away, her face unreadable in the candlelight.
"I was afraid of what I felt for you. Afraid of what it meant to need someone that much. So I fell back on the only thing I knew." The words blurred in front of me. I blinked hard. "Control. Strategy. The cold calculus of business."
A car drove past. The candles flickered.
"I was wrong. I was so wrong." My voice broke properly now, and I didn't try to hide it. "You deserve someone who fights for you. Someone who chooses you, every day, without games or manipulation or fear."
I lowered the sign. Let it fall to the ground.
"I want to be that person." I was speaking from somewhere deep now, somewhere raw, somewhere I'd never let anyone see. "If you'll let me."
Aria hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken.
I took a breath. Found the rest of the words hiding in my chest.