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Just in from another long trip, she entered her office on the eighth floor late in the evening, tired, but not done yet for the day. A few steps in, she stopped dead in surprise.
There was a vase with a big bouquet of daffodils of various colorings and sizes standing in the middle of her desk.
Before she could inquire about it, her secretary showed up next to her with an explanation.
“They were delivered in the afternoon. No note attached, but they’re safe.”
She nodded, and her secretary disappeared again, closing the door behind her on the way out.
Dropping her bag next to the desk, she gave the flowers a closer look. They were beautiful. Their lively color lifted her mood. She couldn’t help but smile as she traced the petals with her fingertips. It was exactly what she had needed after this day. But how had he known? There was no question in her mind who was the sender of this deeply appreciated gift.
After a quick check on his location and the local time, she reached for the receiver and called her husband.
“Hey, darling,” he greeted her. “Did you make it back alright?”
“Just got in, but yes, the flight was quiet.”
“Good.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Without inquiring what she was referring to, he replied, “It’s spring.”
“Hm?”
“When I left the house this morning, I discovered that it’s spring. The flower beds around the house are colorful right now. I thought since you don’t have time to come to the spring, spring has to come to you.”
She leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes for a moment. The exhaustion, the stress, the lack of sleep, it all crashed down on her, destroying her mental walls in the process. Her eyes became teary as emotions washed over her. She was touched by his thoughtfulness.
“Thank you,” she breathed, trying not to sound like she was crying.
But of course, he picked up on the paraverbal signs she had attempted to conceal. “Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked, clearly worried.
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s been a long day. Again. I guess the stress just caught up with me for a moment.”
“I wish I was there,” he said, a hint of frustration and helplessness colored his tone.
“Me, too, honey. Me, too,” she concurred with a sigh. “Three more days?”
“Three more days,” he confirmed. “Until then, take good care of my wife.”
She laughed quietly. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you. Don’t stay for long, get some sleep. It’s late.”
“It is,” she agreed.
“Call me again when you’re about to turn in?”
“I will.”
“Until later then.”
“Until later.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After having hung up, she quickly sifted through the pile of files, splitting it into two new piles: one to take home, one to leave until tomorrow. She forced herself to keep the first pile as small as possible.
Her husband could be quite the mother hen when it came to her health – not that she could blame him, she felt similarly protective of him – and she would get an earful if she called too late. Besides, he did have a point: she needed some sleep.
The files stored in her bag, she snapped a picture of the flowers before heading home to her sadly lonely bed.
Three more days. She could do that. There was a glimpse of spring to keep her spirits up until she could look at the garden that had inspired him, could enjoy his embrace and kiss him again.
For now, though, a call in two hours would have to do.
And tomorrow, it would already be a day less.
The End.