All Chapters of Blooming Backwards : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Johnny’s new condo was nestled in a quiet bluff above the beach, all glass doors and warm stone, a space that felt too pristine for the kind of ache Minnie carried in her chest. He’d only recently moved in—away from the high-rise near his parents, away from expectations. This place was something he picked for himself.“For when I find my future wife,” he’d joked on the drive. “Now it’s just me and the ocean.”The door clicked open, and the smell of sea salt and sandalwood drifted in behind them. Minnie walked in slowly, eyes scanning the sleek open kitchen, the overstuffed couch, and the wide windows leading out to the wraparound balcony. But despite the peaceful hum of the waves, her shoulders stayed tight.“You okay?” Johnny asked gently.She shook her head. “Not really. I keep thinking about the center. It’s closed, there’s damage. I still need to pay staff. I don’t know where the kids will go in the meantime, and we were already behind on supplies—”Johnny slipped a glass of somet

Johnny knew lunch with Lulu wouldn’t be pleasant.He just hadn’t expected to be staring down a bowl of overpriced kale while being pitched like a business merger.Across the glossy patio table, Lulu leaned in, twirling her straw with a practiced smile. “You know, Johnathan, everyone already thinks we’re together.”He blinked. “Not really. They think you’ve been orbiting me since prom.”She scoffed, brushing invisible lint off her already pristine blazer. “We grew up together. Our families are close. We speak the same language—money, ambition, legacy.”“You’re talking like this is an arranged marriage.”She leaned closer. “Maybe it should be. We’re both beautiful, wealthy, well-connected. I look the part. What does she have, Johnny? Loud hair and thrift store heels?”He set his fork down. “You didn’t just say that.”“I did. You think you’re in love with a girl from the other side of the tracks who wears combat boots to fundraisers?”“She runs a nonprofit that’s helped hundreds of kids.

Minnie stood outside the front door of her childhood home, anxiety churning like soda in her stomach.She had thought about bringing Johnny. He offered. Twice. But something told her this needed to be hers. Just her—for now.She rang the bell with a deep breath.The door opened to Lupe, her sister, looking as polished as ever in a neutral-toned dress, hair tied back like a Chanel ad.“Well,” Lupe said, glancing her up and down. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”“I said I would.”“I also didn’t think you’d do it alone. Brave.”Before Minnie could respond, their stepmother’s voice rang from the kitchen. “Tell her not to track dirt through the house. We just had the floors cleaned!”Minnie took off her shoes at the door.Dinner started before they even reached the table.“So,” Lupe said, crossing her arms, “are the tabloids true? You’re the mystery girl ruining Lulu’s perfect love story?”“She never had a love story,” Minnie said calmly, forcing a tight smile.Their stepmother leaned a

Two weeks.Fourteen days of waking up next to Johnny Castile, her cheek nestled into his chest, the salty scent of ocean air laced with fresh espresso drifting in from the kitchen.They’d fallen into a rhythm. Planning meetings with Ana and Jackie in the mornings, working with Kevin and Dane in the afternoons. Evenings were cozy—sake, old movies, or just sitting on the balcony as the city lights blinked in the distance. It wasn’t just a fling. It was something deeper. Something healing.And Johnny? He had been nothing short of gracious.They shared a bed after the first night—when her nightmares about Jeremy had returned. He’d held her until dawn, murmuring that she was safe now. Since then, they’d gotten to second base, maybe a strong second-and-a-half, but Minnie was still cautious. Johnny never pushed. He waited. Patient, steady… tempting.Which is exactly why her brunch crew had called an intervention.Brunch & Black Cards“I’m not saying you owe him sex,” Lani said, spearing her

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—of love, logistics, and looming shadows. Minnie Cortez had lived the kind of life lately that felt like a dream. After years of holding her world together with grit and late-night ramen, she now woke up in oceanfront sheets, kissed by Johnny Castile and tangled in silk instead of stress. They shared coffee, planned the gala, and wrapped themselves around each other like it was the only way to breathe. But even fairy tales had fine print. The center was still closed, and while the Castile and Ellis families had helped her secure a temporary space downtown, the ache of not being home—of watching her kids float without their foundation—sat like a bruise beneath her ribs. She visited the temporary space mid-week. The walls were blank, the furniture minimal, but the kids were there. Laughing. Tossing a football outside. Eating lunch in uneven rows. Minnie smiled. And then her heart dropped. Ryan stood near the corner wall, arms crossed,