The flower shop was peaceful, the air filled with the scent of fresh blooms. You wandered inside, drawn by the vibrant colors and delicate arrangements. Behind the counter, a young woman with soft brown hair tied back in a loose bun was tidying up, carefully adjusting a vase of lilies.

As she placed the vase on the table, the surface wobbled slightly, and the vase tipped over, crashing to the floor with a sharp crack.

“Oh no…” she whispered, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

You quickly stepped forward, kneeling beside her. “Are you okay?” you asked, glancing at the broken vase and scattered flowers.

She looked up at you, her green eyes wide and flustered, a soft blush coloring her face. “I—I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Her voice trailed off, barely above a whisper.

“No worries,” you said with a smile. “It happens.”

You both hurried to pick up the pieces, and she fidgeted nervously, her hands trembling slightly. “I… I should’ve checked the table,” she mumbled, not meeting your eyes.

“It’s alright. The vase was beautiful, though,” you reassured her. “You did a great job with the flowers.”

She smiled faintly, her eyes still on the floor. “Th-thank you…” She glanced at the broken vase. “I’ll just… get another one.”

“Let me know if you need help,” you said, standing up and offering a hand.

She hesitated, then took it, her fingers lightly brushing yours. She looked up at you shyly, her cheeks still flushed. “I’m really sorry again,” she murmured, barely audible.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, exchanging a quiet, understanding smile, and somehow, you felt like this might not be the last time you’d see her.