For 20 years, a bouquet arrived on my birthday—no name, no note, just flowers from a high school boy I barely recalled. This year, their absence sent me searching for answers. I was sharing coffee with Ben, a kind man I’d seen a few times, when I felt uneasy, my eyes drifting to the door. “Waiting for someone?” he asked, his smile soft. I confessed about the flowers, a tradition since high school, each arrangement vibrant, always anonymous. “Twenty years?” he said, chuckling. “Bet they don’t come today.”
We shook hands on it, laughing, but as evening settled, no delivery arrived. My chest tightened. A knock came, but it was my neighbor, Rose, returning a mitten. Ben grinned, saying, “Almost fooled me,” and left. I paced, unable to rest, wondering why the streak ended. Last year, the courier had called to confirm, a detail I’d overlooked. I found the number, “Floral Co.,” and dialed. A man answered, calling me the “mystery flower lady.” I pleaded for the sender’s information, and after a pause, he texted an address. I grabbed my coat, ready to follow the trail.
The next day, Ben showed up with roses and concert tickets, his eyes bright. I was headed out, and though I wanted to go alone, he joined me, chatting about his job and a funny cat video. My mind was on the address—a quaint house with peeling shutters and a garden of tulips and wildflowers. I knocked, and Thomas appeared, his shy high school gaze now lined with age. Ben mumbled, “I’ll wait outside,” and left. Thomas led me to a sunny kitchen, where I asked, “Did you send the flowers?” He nodded, his voice low, confessing he’d loved me since school but was too timid to say it.
The flowers were his quiet gesture, stopped because he thought I’d found someone. “They meant everything,” I said. “My birthday wasn’t the same without them.” His tired smile warmed my heart. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he said. I leaned in. “You never did. Can we try—us?” His hesitation faded as I kissed him, our noses bumping, a cup tipping, but the warmth was real. Twenty years of petals had led me to a love waiting silently all along.
