My Garden 3

The days that followed were a blur of orders and deliveries, the steady rhythm of my routine acting as a shield against thoughts of Alexander. I had told myself I wouldn’t let him disrupt my life, and for the most part, I had kept my focus on the things that mattered—my flowers, my garden, the little community around me. I had no room for men like him. Not now. Not ever.

But then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, he showed up again.

It was late afternoon when I heard the familiar jingle of the shop door. I glanced up, already dreading the sight of him, and there he was—tall, commanding, dressed in that signature sharp suit that made him look like he belonged to a world I could never touch. Alexander Kane. As usual, there was something about him that made my pulse quicken despite my best intentions to ignore it.

He stood just inside the door, his gaze sweeping over the shop before landing on me. There was no smile this time, no pleasantries. Just that cool, calculated look, like he was about to negotiate a deal. I could feel the tension in my chest tighten.

"Sophia," he said, his voice deep and smooth, carrying that same commanding tone that seemed to infiltrate my every thought. "We need to talk."

I crossed my arms over my chest, my stance defiant. "I think we've said everything that needed to be said. I’m not selling my tulips to you, Mr. Kane. I don’t care how much money you throw at me."

His expression didn’t change, though I could see a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe frustration or disbelief. But he quickly masked it, his composure never faltering. "I’m not here to talk about money, Sophia."

I raised an eyebrow, unsure whether I should be relieved or more annoyed. "Then why are you here?"

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us with quiet confidence. "I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. About your flowers, your garden. I get it now." He paused, his eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, I felt like he could see right through me. "I can’t change your mind by offering money. I realize that. But I want to offer something else."

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. The last thing I needed was more confusion. But before I could respond, he continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I know this might sound odd, but... I’m not just interested in your flowers. I’m interested in *you*, Sophia."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Did he just say that?

"What?" I whispered, unsure if I had heard him correctly. "You’re interested in me?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "Not just as a businesswoman. Not just as the owner of a tulip garden. I want to get to know *you*. I don’t expect you to believe me, but that’s the truth."

I was speechless. The audacity of him, to come here, after everything that had happened, and say that. As if he could just waltz into my life and claim my attention. But there was something in his eyes—something raw—that made my breath catch in my throat. It was like he wasn’t just a businessman anymore. For the first time, I saw a man who was just... lonely. And maybe, just maybe, he was tired of denying it.

I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling in my mind. "You think you can just walk in here and say that to me, like I’m some... some charity case?" My voice wavered, but I wasn’t going to let him see how much his words affected me. "You don’t even know me. You don’t know anything about my life, my struggles. So don’t pretend like this is about anything other than what you want."

His face hardened for a moment, but then he took a step back, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. "I know this is difficult for you to accept. I know I’ve been... persistent, to say the least." He sighed, rubbing a hand across his jaw as if weighing his words carefully. "But I’ve spent my whole life building an empire. I’ve mastered the art of business, of deals, of power. But when it comes to matters of the heart..." He paused, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "I’ve been lost. And I can’t keep pretending I’m not."

I swallowed, feeling a pang of something deep inside me. Was this him being vulnerable? Was he actually opening up to me? I didn’t know how to process it. Everything about him screamed control, strength, ambition. But beneath that, I saw something else. Something that felt real. And it unsettled me.

"I don’t need your pity," I said, though the words felt hollow even as I said them. "I’m perfectly fine on my own."

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just stood there, watching me, his gaze unyielding. "I didn’t come here to pity you, Sophia. I came here because I *want* to understand you. And I think you might be someone who could teach me something I’ve been searching for, even if I didn’t know it."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. He had a way of making me question everything. His confidence was unsettling, but there was something beneath it—a vulnerability I hadn’t expected from someone like him. And that made me feel... conflicted.

"I’m not here to disrupt your life," he continued, his voice steady. "But I do want to be a part of it. If you’ll let me."

The silence between us stretched, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to shout at him, to tell him to leave, to walk out the door and never come back. But there was this nagging voice in my head, a voice that asked: *What if he’s telling the truth?*

But I couldn’t afford to entertain that. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, not with a man like Alexander. I had worked too hard to build my life, my business, my independence. And I wasn’t about to let anyone—least of all a billionaire with a hidden agenda—come in and destroy that.

"You need to leave," I said, my voice firm, though my insides were a jumbled mess. "I don’t have time for this."

He studied me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded. "I’ll leave. But I’m not giving up, Sophia. Not on you. Not on us."

With that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving me standing there, breathless, caught somewhere between anger and uncertainty.

I wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Alexander had shaken something deep inside me, something I didn’t want to acknowledge. But I knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.