“Wow,” she said, looking around. “It hasn’t changed much. I almost forgot how beautiful this house was.”
Her perfume spread through the air... something soft and floral, the kind that lingered long after she left. My hands were trembling so hard I had to hide them behind my back.
She wandered through the hall like she was taking a trip down memory lane. When she stepped into the garden, her face lit up. “These orchids. I can’t believe he’s still growing them. They’re my favorite.”
My throat burned. I remembered Dominic misting those orchids every morning, trimming their roots with surgical care. I used to think it was his way of finding peace before work.
He never told me they were her favorite.
We moved toward the veranda, where the wind chimes danced in the breeze.
Loriana smiled, tilting her head. “Still hanging here. I remember the day we bought them in Kyoto. He said the sound reminded him of me.” She looked at me then, “Don’t you just love how sentimental he can be?”
The sound that once calmed me now scraped against my heart. Every evening, Dominic would open the windows to let the wind move through them. I used to think he liked the sound. Now I knew he was listening for her.