I was finally in my last trimester. My belly was so big that I thought my baby was practicing its soccer skills inside, because it kept on kicking as if it couldn't wait to come out.
Since it was too strenuous for me to move around, let alone open the florist, I decided to close it until I gave birth safely.
However, that still didn't stop that persistent bastard from showing up and sitting on the bench across the street.
It had become some sort of habit for me to watch over him from the window. We'd lock eyes for a while, and he'd smile as he waved at me casually before I turned away, not wanting to deal with him any longer.
The neighbors grew increasingly familiar, and some of the older men recognized him somewhat from a magazine they read once or twice, which was probably when he was featured in Forbes a few times.
