Floral Encounter
Arias's POV
The day before Linda’s wedding was nothing short of a nightmare. The house buzzed with chaos—people moving in and out, voices overlapping, instructions being tossed around like confetti. And right in the middle of it all was me—running errands like my life depended on it. My mother, as expected, had dumped all the work on me while Cassandra got to sit back and do absolutely nothing.
I had just returned from picking up the food order from the caterers when my mother’s voice rang out. “Aria, go pick up the flower bouquet from the florist. The order should be ready by now.”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead, barely catching my breath. “I just got back. Maybe Cassandra can—”
“Do you want to ruin my big day?” my mother snapped before I could even finish. “The least you can do is help.”
I clenched my jaw, biting back the retort that burned my tongue. There was no use arguing—I already knew the answer. Cassandra never had to lift a finger, and I was always expected to pick up the slack.
I grabbed my car keys and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
“Aria! Watch it!” Victor yelled from inside.
I smirked to myself—a small victory in an otherwise miserable day.
---
I slid into my old Toyota Camry, gripping the steering wheel as I took a deep breath. It wasn’t much, but it was mine—the first thing I ever bought for myself after saving up for months. Meanwhile, Cassandra had been gifted a brand-new Mercedes for her birthday despite not even having a driver’s license. The unfairness of it all still made my blood boil.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Gloria. She answered on the second ring, her voice light and cheerful. “What’s up, babe?”
“Please tell me you’re free,” I sighed. “Come with me to the florist before I lose my mind.”
Gloria laughed. “Of course, I’ll go. Anything to rescue you from wedding-slave duties. Pick me up in ten.”
“You’re the best,” I said, already feeling a little lighter.
---
By the time I got to Gloria’s place, she was already outside waiting. She slid into the passenger seat, buckling up with a grin.
Gloria always had this effortless glow about her. Her caramel-brown skin shimmered, probably from the coconut oil she swore by. Her full afro framed her face beautifully, and her nose piercing added a little edge to her otherwise soft, warm features. She wore a jean skirt and a crochet sweater—one she had most likely made herself.
“You look amazing, as always,” I said, pulling away from the curb.
Gloria tossed her hair dramatically. “I know, darling. But I appreciate the validation.”
We both laughed, the tension in my chest easing.
---
As we drove, Gloria frowned at the song playing through the speakers. “Aria, what is this slow, depressing music? Are you okay?”
I blinked, only just realizing I hadn’t even noticed the song. My mind had been too wrapped up in something—or rather, someone else.
Matteo.
It had been two weeks since I last saw him, and for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked at me, the way his voice sent shivers down my spine, the mystery that surrounded him. It was frustrating. I barely knew him, yet here I was, missing him.
“Earth to Aria?” Gloria waved a hand in front of my face.
“Huh?”
“I knew it. You were thinking about a guy.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Who is he?”
“No one important,” I mumbled.
She raised an eyebrow. “Right. That’s why you look like you’re about to write a tragic love poem.”
I rolled my eyes, but before I could say anything, she reached over and changed the song. Die With a Smile by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga blasted through the speakers.
“Much better,” she declared. “Now, sing with me.”
I laughed as she dramatically belted out the lyrics, and soon, I joined in. We sang at the top of our lungs, not caring that people on the street were staring. Gloria always brought out this carefree side of me, and I loved her for it.
---
The scent of fresh flowers greeted us as we stepped into the florist. Rows of colorful blooms lined the shop, filling the space with soft, sweet fragrances.
Gloria and I wandered around, inspecting different bouquets. I picked up a bunch of roses, bringing them to my nose.
“Okay, but why does this one smell like heaven?” I murmured.
“Probably because it’s the only good thing happening today,” Gloria joked.
I chuckled, placing the bouquet back down.
The little bell above the door chimed as more people entered the shop. I barely noticed—too focused on choosing the perfect flowers—until Gloria nudged me and whispered, “Holy shit, they’re hot.”
Curious, I turned around.
And then I froze.
Matteo.
My heart slammed against my chest as our eyes met. It was like the air shifted, thickening with something I couldn’t quite name. A shiver crawled down my spine, but not just because he was here. No—it was because standing right next to him was someone who looked exactly like him.
My stomach twisted.
His twin.
Matteo’s eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into something unreadable.
I swallowed, unable to look away.
Gloria leaned in and whispered, “Aria, you are staring.”
I barely heard her. All I could focus on was Matteo—and the man beside him who carried the same sharp jawline, the same piercing eyes, only difference was a scar on his eyebrows, the same presence that made the world seem smaller around them.
What were the odds of running into him again?