Thanks to 'arethesemyfeet' for the lovely beta-and dealing with my braindeadness over this past week
Comments are love-
Since the first time Michael had always received a certain joy when buying her flowers.
Over the years he'd chosen so many for her, making it his personal crusade to ride her of her dislike of the plants. And when he looks back he likes to think he has.
During their wedding she join him in the floral shop, even reordering after he had chosen. Holding them happily to her face to breath in the scent. Michael knew it was only the beginning.
Soon after, he gave her a bouquet for their son's birth, Sara had smiled wryly up at him and accepted the bundle. And he's made a point to give her flowers every year on their anniversary, but never the same style and never at the same time.
He'd like to surprise her in the mornings or wait until they had stepped into their room to see it covered with the blooms.
Michael liked to think he erased the unhappiness and the loneliness that the flowers represented, and whenever she'd buried her nose into the bouquet then smiled up at him, he was sure he had.
Now as he presented her with another bouquet he felt nothing.
He'd spent so much time forcing her to see happiness behind the petals that he never realized he would always see her behind them.
Michael bent forward and arranged the flowers; he brought a hand to his mouth, kissed it then touched the gravestone.
"I love you," he whispered sadly, not even daring himself to read the engraved words he knew by heart.