CHAPTER ONE: The Blind Date
Oh!!! What a man !!!.
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It had been a long week at the flower shop. Orders came in late, the delivery van broke down. And Micah my brother had another panic again . I had barely slept in two days, and my back ached from bending over flower buckets for hours.
But Bella, my best friend, wouldn't stop calling and that seems to be the only friend I was able to keep because she's so lovely and down to earth.
"Lillian," she said over the phone. "This guy is serious. I'm telling you, just one dinner. You don't have to marry him,"she said.
"I don't want to meet anyone," I replied.
"You said that last year,you hooked me up with someone for a blind date and it ended up being the worst ever,"I added.
"I mean it, this time"she said, trying to convince me.
"Come on," she said. "You've been stuck between roses and thorns for months now. Please come out of your shell and try this blind date out,"she added.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Fine. One dinner. No expectations."I said.
"Deal!" she screamed.
"Wear something soft and floral. He's into nature,"she told me.
I frowned. "What kind of man is into nature?"I asked in a curious tone.
"You'll see," she laughed.
I didn't believe her.
But I still found myself standing in front of my mirror an hour later, wearing a lavender dress with small yellow flowers around the hem.
My hair was simple and my perfume was light. I wasn't going to impress anyone afterall. It was just dinner.
The restaurant was quiet, with soft jazz music playing in the background. Candles flickered on every table. I looked around and didn't see anyone who seemed to be waiting for someone. After a while I saw him.
He was sitting at the far end, alone. A tall man, in a smooth black suit, and dark eyes that looked like they carried too many secrets. He wasn't touching anything, not even the cutlery or the glass of water in front of him.
When he saw me, his eyes widened just a little and to me that feels weird.
Then he stood and I walked over, slowly.
"Are you Lillian?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "You must be Jude."i added.
"Yes."he said.
He didn't offer his hand.
I noticed that quickly.
Instead, he pointed to the seat across from him. "Please sit."he said.
I sat down. "Thank you."
Oh !!!! What a man!!! I thought quietly.
He stared at me for a second longer, then looked away. His fingers were pressed tightly on his lap.
"You're not eating," I said.
He shook his head. "I don't eat in public,"he said.
I blinked. "Okay."i said, surprised.
He looked at me again. "You smell… different."he said.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"I asked.
"I didn't mean that in a bad way," he said quickly. "It's just… I don't know. You smell clean. Safe."he explained.
I laughed nervously. "Well, I work in a flower shop."
He nodded slowly. "Makes sense."
I tilted my head. "Are you always this… careful?"
He looked away. "I have allergies."
"Oh. What kind?"
He hesitated. "Touch."
I frowned. "You mean… like skin contact?"
"Yes,"he said.
I paused. "That sounds lonely."
"It is."he replied.
He didn't smile. He just looked at me like I was something strange or something new.
"Is that why you didn't shake my hand?" I asked.
"Yes."
I nodded slowly. "You could've told me."
"I was waiting to see if I needed to."he said.
That made me blink again. "And did you?"
"No," he said quietly. "I didn't feel anything bad when you sat down."
I looked at him for a while.
He looked calm but tense. Like someone who had been alone for too long, like someone who wanted to reach out but didn't know how.
I placed my hand slowly on the table. "You can try."
He stiffened. "Lillian…"
"Just my finger," I said. "One second."
He stared at my hand like it was made of fire. Then, slowly, slowly, he reached out. His fingertip touched mine but nothing happened.
No gasps, no itching, no rash and no fainting.
His eyes widened. "It's not burning."he said.
"I know," I whispered.
He looked at me like I was the answer to a question he didn't know how to ask.
Then he pulled his hand back quickly. "I don't understand."
"Maybe I'm the lucky one," I said softly. "Maybe you are."
He looked confused. "I've never touched anyone without reacting."
I smiled. "Maybe I'm not just flowers and petals."
That was the first time he smiled. Just a little. But it was enough.
We talked after that, for hours.
About his life, his father died when he was twelve and his mother left soon after.
About the allergy—it started when he was fifteen. No one could explain it. Doctors ran tests but no answers. It was only pain.
About his fear—he stopped shaking hands, hugging, even bumping into people. Everything hurt.
About his world—billion-dollar investments, private labs, charity events. All of it behind glass. Always behind glass.
And then we talked about me.
"My mom loved roses," I said. "She died from lung problems. She always told me that flowers were the only thing that didn't hurt to breathe in."
"And your brother or sister?" he asked.
"Micah. He had an accident two years ago. Still healing. He doesn't speak much."i said.
Jude was quiet.
"I think he'll talk again someday," I added. "When he feels safe."
"Do you feel safe?" he asked.
I looked at him. "Now? Yes."
He didn't reply. But he looked at me like he wanted to.
When we left the restaurant, he walked a few steps behind me. Then, suddenly, he stopped.
"Lillian," he said.
I turned.
He looked nervous. "Do you want to see my place?"
I hesitated.
"It's not a trap," he said quickly. "I have a garden. Real flowers. I never bring people there,"he said.
I paused. "Then why me?"
He looked into my eyes. "Because I touched you. And I didn't bleed."
I took a breath.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
The car was sleek and black. The driver was silent. Jude sat far from me, hands folded tightly, and my eyes straight ahead.
We reached his estate twenty minutes later.
It was big, too big and really beautiful. There were tall gates and white walls.
Inside, the floors were marble. The air smelled of lemon and mint.
As we walked in, I admired the beautiful garden and the decorations inside the house was breathtaking.
After a while, he opened a glass door, and I stepped into a place I could never imagine.
Lilies, violets, white roses, purple tulips. A small pond. A fountain. Warm lights.
"It's all real," he said beside me.
"It's… perfect," I whispered.
He looked at me again. "I come here when I can't breathe."
"Then breathe now," I said.
He did. Deep and slow.
Then he touched my hand again.
And still, nothing bad happened.
Only warmth.
Only peace.