My husband 7

Chapter 7 

I didn’t tell my parents where I went. Not because I didn’t love them, I just couldn’t bear to see the worry in their eyes again. 

After everything, I knew they’d drop everything to come find me. 

But I needed space. Space to breathe. Space to heal. 

So, I left. 

I packed a few bags, cashed out from the joint accounts under my maiden name. 

Thankfully, the Carter name still meant something, and I moved to Richmond. 

The same place where my parents used to take me every spring when I was a little girl. 

Back then, we’d stay at this tiny family-run inn near a cherry blossom park. 

We’d eat ice cream on the bench and count how many pink petals landed on our heads. 

My dad would lift me onto his shoulders when I got tired, and Mom would sing quietly under her breath. 

This city’s different now. Bigger. Colder, maybe. 

But the air still smells the same in the early morning. 

A mix of grass, rain, and something sweet, like cinnamon rolls and jasmine. 

The moment I stepped off the bus, I felt it in my chest. That little flicker of home. 

And the best part? Here, I didn’t have to be Mrs. Gallagher. 

No one cared who I married. 

No one whispered behind my back or looked at me like I was some cursed trophy wife. 

I was just Jillian Carter. Daughter of the Carters. Independent. Free. And loaded, let’s be honest. 

I didn’t need to work. But I needed something to do with my hands. 

So, I opened a flower shop. 

Tucked into a sleepy corner between a bakery and an antique bookstore. I named it Cherry & Moss, because it sounded soft but strong. Just like I wanted to feel again. 

I wasn’t trying to make a living; I was planting flowers. 

Touching the soil every day, watching things grow instead of rot. 

No bodyguards. No chefs. No cold dinners waiting for a man who never came home on time. 

1/4 

Chapter 7 

One afternoon, I was sitting out front, just kinda zoning out. 

+25 Bonus 

The wind was gentle, swaying the hanging baskets. I had a cup of iced tea in one hand, and I was watching a ladybug crawl across 

my knee. 

That’s when I noticed her. 

A little girl, maybe seven or eight, walking up real slow. 

She had these big hazel eyes, and this messy ponytail that looked like it hadn’t seen a brush all week. 

Her face looked… heavy. Sad. Like she’d been crying or holding back tears for too long. 

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there on the edge of the shop’s porch and blinked at me. 

I smiled, leaning forward. “Hey there, cutie. You okay? Need help with something?” 

She looked at her shoes, then back up at me. “I wanna buy some flowers… for my mom.” 

My heart tugged. “Alright, sweetie. Do you know what kind she likes? Or maybe her favorite color?” 

She shrugged. “She doesn’t tell me. Ever.” 

I tilted my head. “Well, how about giving her a quick call? Ask her real fast. That way you can pick something perfect.” 

There was a long pause. Then she looked up at me, voice barely a whisper. 

“My mom… she might not answer.” 

I frowned. “She busy today?” 

The girl bit her lip. “She’s… she’s gone.” 

I felt my stomach drop. 

My hand froze mid-reach. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” 

Just then, a man appeared from around the corner, walking fast. 

Tall, sharp features, glasses perched on his nose, sleeves rolled up like he’d run out of his office. And wow, he was handsome. Not the cold, razor-sharp type like Finn. This guy had warmth. Kindness. But also this quiet strength in how he carried himself. 

His eyes scanned the street until they landed on the girl. 

“Cici!” he called, walking up fast. “You can’t just run off like that without telling me. I was scared outta my mind.” 

Cici turned to him, her lower lip trembling. “I wanted to visit Mom… Uncle Garrick.” 

His whole expression softened. “I know, baby girl. We’ll go this afternoon, okay? I promise.” 

Then he looked at me. 

2/4 

Chapter 7 

Those eyes… warm, sincere. 

+25 Bonus 

He stepped closer. “Hey, sorry she wandered in here. She does that sometimes. Would you mind helping us pick out something… 

appropriate?” 

I nodded. “Of course. I’ve got a few arrangements that’d be perfect for visiting a grave.” 

His face tightened just a bit. “Thank you.” 

I moved to the work table and started bundling lilies with white roses. 

“Cici mentioned her mom couldn’t answer the phone, but I didn’t realize…” 

He gave a small smile. “No apology needed. Honestly, I’m glad she came here instead of some street corner. You’ve got good 

energy.” 

That made me laugh softly. 

Glad someone thinks so. Finn sure didn’t. 

Just as I tied the last ribbon, the sky outside opened up. Soft at first, then a full-on downpour. 

I looked out, then back at him. “You two didn’t bring an umbrella, did you?” 

He glanced outside, then down at Cici. “Guess your mom doesn’t want us showing up all soaked, huh? What do you say, stay here 

a bit until the rain stops? That cool with you?” Then he turned to me, “if you don’t mind.” 

I smiled. “You guys can hang out here as long as you want. Not like I’m swamped with customers.” 

Cici wandered over to the flower buckets and started twirling a daisy between her fingers. 

She turned to me and said, totally serious, “You smell like flowers. I like it.” 

I laughed. “Well, I guess that’s good, since I work with ’em all day. 

Her uncle stepped closer. “She doesn’t usually warm up to strangers. Not since… everything happened. Her dad walked out not 

long after her mom passed.” 

I nodded slowly. “That’s rough.” 

“Yeah. But she’s strong. Smarter than I was at her age, that’s for sure.” 

He held out his hand. “I’m Garrick, by the way.” 

“Jillian. Just Jillian.” 

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Well, Just Jillian, would you mind if I bring her by now and then? We’re actually just a few blocks away.” 

“I’d love that,” I said without thinking. 

3/4 

Cici beamed. “Yeah! You’re the best, Jillian!” 

I couldn’t stop smiling. 

For the first time in years, something felt right. Not fake. Not rehearsed. Just… real. 

And right then, watching the rain fall outside my quiet little flower shop, I realized something: 

This was the life I was meant to grow into. 

Not as Mrs. Gallagher.