Chapter 21

By evening, Lorelai finished her work at the studio and prepared to head home. The moment she opened the door, she saw Zachary standing outside. In his arms was a bouquet of garden roses. "Nettie, these are your favourites." Lorelai let out a cold snort. The day she left, Zachary couldn't even remember what she liked. He had thought she liked regular roses. Only now did he recall her favorite—the simple, elegant garden roses. People only seemed to realize what mattered after they had lost it. "Mr. Wright, first of all, my name is Lorelai. I don't know who this 'Nettie' is. Second, I don't like garden roses." Zachary stiffened. "But you used to love them." Lorelai smiled brightly, her words cutting. "You said it yourself—that was before. People change. I used to like garden roses. Now, I might like regular roses too. After all, familiarity bred contempt; even the loveliest blossom would lose its charm with constant, unchanging exposure." Zachary knew exactly what she was implyi