The customer requested three identical bouquets, without roses. He said roses looked like an apology. Filip arranged white lilies, greenery, and tiny purple flowers. The man inspected all three, paid cash, and asked for cards he would write himself. Filip was thinking about weekend supplies, not why someone needed three identical tokens of affection.
The customer left one card on the counter. It read, "For our Thursday, N." Beneath it was Filip's home address.
At first he thought he had misread the number. His wife Irena worked from home on Thursdays. The man returned before Filip could decide anything and collected the card, thanking him for his care. Filip let him leave. He did not know whether a question asked in the shop would produce truth or merely a performance he would have to watch in front of his assistant.
That afternoon he closed on time and went home. His bouquet stood on the kitchen table. Irena said a colleague had sent it to celebrate a completed project. Filip pulled the receipt from his pocket and placed it beside the vase. "I made it," he said. Irena looked at the number of bouquets on the receipt, then at him. Her first reaction was to ask who the other two were for.
The moment almost made him laugh. They stood in their own apartment, and she had just discovered she might not be the only woman receiving flowers from her lover. Filip did not answer because he did not know. He sat at the table and asked how long their affair had lasted. Irena said five months and that she had not planned to leave. It did not sound comforting to him.
Over the following days they discussed the apartment, work, and the people who needed to know they had separated. Irena tried explaining that the affair had become a habit she did not know how to escape. Filip understood habits could be powerful. He did not understand why he had to live inside a version of her day that did not exist. He temporarily stayed with a friend, retaining his rights to their apartment and time to decide.
Two weeks later the customer returned for flowers. Filip served him properly and coldly. He did not mention Irena or charge extra. Afterward he asked his assistant to take over for ten minutes. He sat in a nearby park and let his hands grow still. He did not have to turn his business into a place of revenge for his hurt to be real.
Eventually he decided to divorce. At the shop he continued making bouquets, including white lilies. One morning he bought himself a small potted plant, something he did not have to cut for it to look beautiful. He placed it in his new apartment's window and forgot to remove the price tag. When he noticed it, he left it another day. He was in no hurry to make everything neat at once.