She bought the last three pots, balancing them carefully as she walked to her grandmother’s old house. The garden had gone wild since she passed, overgrown with ivy and stubborn weeds, but the corner by the porch—Grandma’s favorite spot—was still clear.
Clara spent the afternoon digging into the cool soil. As she tucked the gardenias into the ground, the sun began to set, turning the sky a dusty violet. The fragrance of the blooms suddenly sharpened in the evening air, sweet and heavy. buy gardenia flowers
The air in the flower shop was thick with the scent of lilies and damp earth, but Clara was looking for something specific. She found them tucked in the back: a row of gardenias, their petals so white they looked like carved wax against the dark, glossy leaves. She bought the last three pots, balancing them