Of all the things to worry about, Markus was the most concerned about the flower bouquet he had intended to bring to his girlfriend’s—no—his ex’s house. It seemed strange in hindsight, yet a large part of him had hoped that he would marry Olivia and live with her forever, start a family, and take care of her in old age. Unfortunately, it seemed like only he had thought in that direction, and Olivia’s desperate and apologetic face still shone in his memories.

“Can I still call you Liv?”

“Of course. We’re still friends, you know…right?”

“Yeah...of course.”

Markus’s entire mind and body was numb, but his heart…his heart felt like it was ripping in two, or as if he was falling into an empty abyss that spiraled only downward into darkness. But what should he do with the flowers? The miniature crisis, tiny but unavoidable, was what kept bringing him back to the present. For a moment, anger dashed across his mind, and he vowed to throw them to the ground, trample them, and burn what was left. Yet, as he studied the orange-red buds, still relatively fresh from Mrs. Lee’s garden, Markus realized that destroying the flowers would never bring Olivia back to him.

As soon as the anger faded, regret took its place, and Markus flopped back onto his bed, wondering what he could have done differently. If he had loved her more? If he had taken her to more dates? If he had been a better listener? Again, heartache rippled through his chest, threatening to engulf him with this sense of despair. What was he going to do without her?

“Mark…are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“I’m not convinced. But Mark, I want you to know something. No matter what our relationship status is, I will always love you, one way or another. You’re my best friend.

Just like that, he had been friend-zoned, delegated to the most painful form of existence. Olivia, constantly in view, constantly messaging him, constantly appearing every time he turned his head.

His gaze fell back to the flowers again, and he choked back a sob, putting his head between his knees and swallowing tightly. I can’t move on, Markus thought. I will never stop loving her.

As another wave of emotion—hurt, shame, anger, fear, doubt, and betrayal—washed over him, he finally gave in. Alone in his room, still wearing his tuxedo, he cried, the overwhelming pain of heartbreak lessening with every tear that coursed down the side of his face.

“That was a great movie, especially the part where he jumped off the building to save those kids, don’t you agree?”

“…This has nothing to do with the movie, but I love you, Liv.”

“Is this the part where you kiss the damsel in distress? Oh, there’s no need to look like you just died or something. Don’t worry, I love you too, you big oaf.”

Had everything she said been a lie? Or what about all of his foolish promises to take care of her forever and to never let her go? They had all ended up as lies as well, hadn’t they? Lifting trembling fingers to his cheeks, Markus brushed the tears away and stood, lifting the flowers from where they lay on his desk. An idea came to him, but he pushed it away for a moment. Flowers had many purposes, right? He could give some to his mom or his sister, they would like them…but he wouldn’t feel right sharing his girlfriend’s to-be-gift with his family.

Again, the idea resurfaced, more insistent this time, and Markus took a minute to contemplate its possibilities. Reaching into his left desk drawer, he pulled out a pocket map he had kept stored there. It had been a giveaway at a county fair he had gone to, not surprisingly, with Olivia.

“Hey, you two look like a cute couple! Come take a free map. It’s got all the greatest places on it. Look, here is the courthouse, Walmart, Dollar Tree, and lots more. Oh, and here is a special spot where the two of you can go up and get some privacy. Watch out, the fence is a little precarious in some areas, but you can still get a great view of the area from that bridge up there.”

“Ha, maybe—”

“Mark, we should go! Take the map.”

He did not trust himself to drive, so Markus grabbed the map and the flowers, left the house still wearing his wrinkled tuxedo, and started down the road to the ravine. It was getting darker, and if he had been following proper safety guidelines, he would have worn some manner of reflective gear. However, Markus walked as a driven, yet heart-broken man, determined to get to his destination, yet too apathetic to bother with frivolous concerns. Through the twisting sidewalks of north-east Delaware, he strode, oftentimes walking alongside the highway to make it to his destination.

A loud honk split the air behind him, and Markus turned back slowly, as if drunk, confused to see a semi bearing down on him. For a second, he could not remember where he was. For a second more, he contemplated remaining where he stood. What good was life without Olivia? Yet the thought of the flowers in his hands kept him going, and he stepped further off to the side of the road where the semi wouldn’t be at risk of hurting him.

The driver stuck his hand out the window in an obscene gesture as he passed, and Markus realized he must look like quite a sight. Still, though, he kept walking, flower petals fluttering to the ground behind him every now and then.

“Why’d you take the map, Liv? It’s too dark to get there tonight.”

“Aw, Mark, you’re always too much of a coward. Dark is the absolute best time to go on a sight-seeing adventure!”

“We won’t be able to see anything, though?”

“Nonsense. We will watch the city lights gleam, and if we can’t find them, we will search for the stars.”

After consulting the pocket map again, Markus finally found the trail that led to the lofting bridge. Fears forgotten, he continued on, for none shone more clearly in his mind than the thought of losing Olivia forever. Possessed by an aching desire to restore what had been lost, he stepped onto the rickety bridge, walking across to where the wire rails had rusted away in abandonment. Lifting the flowers to his nose, Markus took a moment to savor their sweet aroma. The stars glistened like tears in the sky above, and the moon had barely awoken from its daytime slumber.

Markus ripped the first petal from the bud, throwing it off the side of the bridge. It twisted as it fell, twirling and dancing in the dim light, and he watched it land with a gentle ripple among the muddy water below.

“She loves me,” he whispered aloud.

Plucking another petal from the stack, Markus tossed it to the night breezes, watching as the wind carried it dancing to the ground.

“She loves me, not.”

“Love is such a fickle thing, Mark.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m not really sure. But maybe sometimes you only realize too late that you love the people who you shouldn’t. The ones who will either hurt you, or cling so tight to you that you sink down with them.”

“If I hurt you, promise that you will stop loving me.”

“You could never hurt me. But you must promise the same thing.”

As they fell, the petals drove themselves into the mud, floating barely on the top of the water, yet being sucked down by the foreign substance. As if from a distance, Markus wondered if he had been like that mud, constantly dragging Olivia down and keeping her from her dreams, goals, and passions. The thought came and went like the breeze sweeping through his hair, and he tossed another handful of petals into the night. They scattered, yet they all found their way to the grass.

With each petal that left the bundle, Markus forced himself to let go of another memory he and Olivia had shared. Again and again, his heart ripped apart before stitching itself back together with each new beat. He wondered how he could bleed this much yet still be alive, but he forced himself to continue this means of self-torture.

“You’re boring, but you’re fixable, I think. I’m Olivia, and I’m seven years old! What’s your name?”

“Markus. I’m eight.”

The last rose found its way into his hand, but before he ripped it apart, Markus studied it. The sun had fully set, and unable to make out the red-gold colors, he rubbed a finger lightly across the outside petals. They folded, soft beneath his touch, and again, Markus choked back a sob. The final memory was the hardest to release.

“Can I still call you Mark?”

“Do you want to?”

“You’re my friend; of course I do.”

“Okay. Go ahead then.”

He ripped the rose apart, each petal drifting from his fingertips. With each one, his voice rose. “She loves me. She loves me, not. She loves me! She loves me, not!”

His spirit rode the winds with the petals, and he chased them with his mind. The memories swirled around him until only one remained.

Markus clenched it in his fist for a moment, before he tossed it to the sky, allowing it to join the others in its path. She loves me.

“I love you too, Liv,” he whispered to the night.

Author's Note: This is my first real attempt at writing a published story based solely around an image prompt. I am considering doing more like this in the future! Should I? And if so, do you have any image suggestions for what I should write about? I look forward to hearing from you!