Nadine hadn't ventured out to the cemetery, but she'd noted the date. On her lunch break, she'd visited a florist and detailed the small arrangement to be put on the grave, a mix of white carnations and purple hyacinth. She'd had to call her aunt--a devout florist herself--to know just the right flowers to pick, and she was satisfied with what the woman had told her
( ... )
Nadine watched him, slightly tense at the sound of his voice. Perhaps she should have gone to see Jonathan tonight, stayed out of the apartment, stayed out of his way... In hindsight, that would have been the kinder thing to do, she realized.
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