…a simple bouquet of wildflowers he had picked from the field behind our houses. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of hope and nervousness as he approached the bed. I couldn’t help but notice the small tremor in his hand as he offered the flowers to me.
“These are for you, Sarah,” he said softly, his voice barely rising above the sound of the rain. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to give you something special tonight.”
I took the bouquet, my fingers brushing against his. The wildflowers were humble, yet they carried a sincerity that tugged at my heart. It was a stark contrast to the lavish bouquets I had received in the past, which often felt more like tokens of obligation rather than genuine gestures of affection.
