Lesley woke to the shrill insistence of her phone cutting through the quiet of her room. The sound felt too sharp for the hour, too demanding. She groaned softly, stirring beneath the sheets, and blinked one eye open as her hand fumbled across the bedside table.
6:35 a.m.
She squinted at the screen, her brow knitting. "Who the hell would call this early…" she muttered, voice thick with sleep.
Then she saw the caller ID.
Denisse.
The fog in her mind cleared instantly. Lesley pushed herself upright, the blankets falling to her waist as a sudden alertness replaced the last traces of drowsiness. She answered quickly.
"Hey, why are you calling this early?" she said, a hint of concern slipping into her voice despite herself.
"Sorry to wake you," Denisse replied, her tone softer than usual, edged with something uneasy. "I just… I can't make it to our lunch later. I'm on my way to my hometown now."
Lesley's grip on the phone tightened. "Why? Did something happen?"
There was a small pause on the other end, the kind that carried weight. "Dad called earlier. He said Mom isn't feeling well. She… she asked to see me."
The concern settled fully now, steady and real. Lesley exhaled, her shoulders loosening. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to explain. Of course you should go. We can just reschedule."
"I'm really sorry," Denisse said quickly. "I know we planned this and I— I just miss her. And she misses me. You understand, right?"
Lesley let out a quiet huff, almost a smile. "You're silly. You don't need to apologize. Just be there for your mom."
"Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you."
A playful spark returned, faint but familiar. Lesley leaned back against her headboard, a smirk forming. "Does the 'make up' involve undressing and kissing?"
Denisse laughed, the sound lighter now. "Of course. And more."
"I like that."
"You always do."
Lesley shook her head, her smile lingering. "Alright. Take care, okay? And… Drive safely."
"I will. Bye."
"Bye."
The call ended, and the quiet returned just as suddenly as it had been broken. Lesley stared at the dim screen for a moment before letting her hand fall into her lap. She sighed, long and soft.
Disappointment sat there, subtle but undeniable. She had been looking forward to today more than she'd admitted.
Still, she understood.
-
A few hours later, the morning had stretched into something slower, heavier. Lesley moved through it on autopilot—shower, breakfast, a half-hearted attempt at productivity—until boredom finally drove her out of her house.
Now she sat in Alexandra's garden, the late morning sun warm against her skin. The air smelled faintly of soil and citrus, and a glass of fresh orange juice cooled her hand as condensation gathered along its sides. She took a slow sip, letting the tart sweetness linger.
Across from her, Alexandra knelt by a row of rose bushes, carefully trimming stray leaves with practiced precision.
"Your flowers look better this season," Lesley said, her gaze drifting over the vibrant blooms. "Healthier."
Alexandra smiled without looking up. "Of course they do. I'm not the only one taking care of them anymore. Sam helps too."
Lesley tilted her head slightly, watching her. "You two really love flowers, huh?"
"Not just flowers," Alexandra replied, finally glancing at her with a soft grin. "Red roses, specifically. They remind me of our very cute love story."
Lesley groaned, dragging her free hand down her face. "Oh god, please don't start with your high school love story again."
"Why not? It was romantic. And beautiful."
"You've told me that story at least a hundred times," Lesley said flatly, though the corner of her mouth twitched.
Alexandra chuckled and shook her head, snipping another leaf. "Fine. Be that way. Honestly, you're so allergic to love sometimes. I think Denisse deserves better."
Lesley's eyes snapped to her. "And why is Denisse suddenly part of this conversation?"
Alexandra stood, brushing dirt from her hands, and studied Lesley with a knowing look. "Because I can see it. You're bored out of your mind, and you keep staring at your phone like it might magically ring. You miss her."
Lesley scoffed quickly, a little too quickly. "Me? No. Why would I miss her? She's just… with her family. In their hometown."
Alexandra raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You know exactly where she is now?"
Lesley hesitated for half a second before recovering. "Well… yeah. She's my assistant. I should know where she is."
"Right," Alexandra said, clearly unconvinced.
Lesley took another sip of her juice, avoiding her gaze.
Alexandra crossed her arms, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "If you miss her that much, why are you here? Go to her."
Lesley snorted, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "Hell no."
The answer came out firm, almost sharp.
Alexandra just shook her head, amused, and turned back to her roses.
Sam stepped in, balancing a box of fresh pastries, the scent of butter and sugar trailing in with her. She took one look at the two of them and didn't miss a beat, a knowing smile already forming as she approached the table.
She set the box down with a quiet thud. "Is she still trying to hide the most obvious thing in the world right now, babe?"
"Yep." Alexandra didn't even look up, her shears moving steadily through the rose bushes. "As if she could actually convince any of us."
Lesley exhaled through her nose, rolling her eyes with a practiced ease that almost worked. "I'm not trying to convince anyone," she said, though the faint curve of her lips betrayed a hint of amusement.
Sam slid into the chair opposite her, leaning forward slightly, elbows grazing the edge of the table. "So tell us, really," she said, lowering her voice just enough to feel conspiratorial, "are you two official now?"
"No," Lesley replied, a beat too quickly.
The snipping stopped.
Alexandra's hand stilled mid-air before she slowly straightened from the rose bush. She brushed her fingers lightly against her pants, then crossed the short distance to the table. Pulling a chair closer, she sat beside Lesley, her attention now fully fixed on her.
"What? Why?"
Sam let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, why? Because, Les, let's not pretend here. Denisse is—" she gestured vaguely, searching for a word that seemed big enough, "—ridiculously beautiful. And she's smart. Driven. If she ever applied to our company, I'd hire her on the spot."
Lesley glanced down at the table, tracing the faint ring her glass had left behind with the tip of her finger. "We're enjoying what we have right now," she said, her tone softer, quieter. "Why put a label on it? Does it really matter that much?"
A light breeze passed through the garden, stirring the leaves and carrying the scent of roses between them.
"It does, Les," Sam said firmly. "It absolutely does."
Alexandra rested her forearms on the table, her voice gentler but no less steady. "Babe, I know what happened with Daphne hurt you. I know it did more than that. It changed how you see things." She paused, watching Lesley carefully. "But is Denisse not worth trying again? Is she not worth the risk of… whatever this is you're so afraid of?"
Lesley didn't answer right away. Somewhere behind them, a bird fluttered from branch to branch, its wings briefly breaking the stillness.
Alexandra continued, her tone threading the line between concern and challenge. "And be honest with yourself. What you feel right now—is it just a game? Infatuation? Because if it is, then she deserves to know that."
A quiet settled over the table, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the neighborhood beyond the garden walls.
"We haven't really talked about it," Lesley admitted at last.
Sam blinked, leaning back in disbelief. "What? Why not? That should've been the first conversation—before you started kissing her."
Lesley huffed a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "I tried. A couple of times. But every time the moment came… the words just wouldn't."
Brief flashes crossed her mind almost immediately.
The break room.
Denisse had been leaning against the counter, blowing softly against the steam rising from her coffee while morning sunlight spilled across the room. Lesley had stood there longer than necessary, watching her fingers curled loosely around the cup.
Just say it, she had told herself.
"Denisse... about—"
The door suddenly burst open.
"Ms. Ashford! Mr. Davis is looking for you—"
Lesley had stepped back immediately, the moment gone before it even fully existed.
Then there was the restaurant.
Soft jazz had been playing in the background while candlelight flickered gently between them. Denisse had been smiling at something stupid Lesley said, eyes warm, relaxed, beautiful in a way that distracted her more than she wanted to admit.
That night had felt perfect.
Perfect enough that Lesley almost said it.
Her fingers had tightened slightly around the wine glass before she finally looked up.
"Denisse…"
Denisse had looked at her expectantly.
And Lesley had panicked.
"You should try the dessert," she said instead. "I think you'll like it."
The disappointment she felt in herself afterward had been almost unbearable.
And then the kitchen.
Late at night. Barefoot. Quiet.
Denisse had been standing by the counter wearing one of her oversized shirts while waiting for water to boil. The apartment lights were dim, soft against her skin.
Lesley remembered walking up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist, resting her chin lightly against her shoulder.
The words had been right there.
So close.
"I need to tell you something," Lesley had murmured quietly.
Denisse had turned slightly in her arms. "Hm?"
And suddenly Lesley's chest tightened.
Fear.
Not of saying it—
but of what might change after.
So instead, she had only kissed the side of Denisse's neck and whispered:
"Nothing."
Alexandra tilted her head, studying her. A strand of hair shifted with the breeze, brushing lightly against her cheek. "Or maybe," she said slowly, "what your mind wants and what your heart wants aren't the same thing. And that's what's stopping you."
Lesley looked up sharply. "That's absurd," she said, a little too quick, a little too defensive. "I'm not looking for another commitment. And whatever happened with Daphne has nothing to do with this. Labels just complicate things. The moment you put a name on it, people start expecting more, demanding more… and then it stops being easy. I'd rather keep it the way it is—real, but not something that can break the second it's defined."
But even as the words left her mouth, something tightened in her chest.
It was subtle at first, like a quiet pull she couldn't quite name. Then it grew, pressing against her ribs, insistent and impossible to ignore. Images slipped into her mind uninvited—Denisse laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners; Denisse brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear; Denisse's voice softening when she said Lesley's name.
Does she really not want this?
The question lingered, heavy and unwelcome.
Does she really not want to call her 'mine'?
Lesley swallowed, her fingers curling slightly against her palm.
A soft rustling sound broke through her thoughts. Alexandra reached over to the wicker basket she had left nearby and pulled out a small bundle of roses—freshly cut, their petals a deep, vivid red. She set them gently on the table between them, a few loose leaves scattering across the wood.
"Here," she said simply.
Lesley blinked, startled. "What—"
"Go," Alexandra said, nudging the flowers toward her. "Bring these to Denisse. Stop pretending you don't want to be with her right now. Because you do. It's written all over your face."
Sam smirked, lifting her glass to her lips. "Yeah. Be romantic for once."
Lesley let out a breath that was half laugh, half surrender. She picked up the roses, turning them slightly in her hands, feeling the soft brush of petals against her fingertips. A faint trace of their scent rose up, subtle but grounding.
"You two are really something," she muttered, though there was no real bite to it.
The sunlight had shifted slightly now, warmer, softer, stretching longer shadows across the garden. Lesley glanced at the roses, then at the open space beyond the gate.
And for the first time that day, she didn't hesitate quite as much.