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I wanted to do something that would make her happy, even though I knew the symbolism wouldn’t be lost on anyone in this room.

“Here,” I held out the small, plastic box towards her. “I got this to match your dress.”

Bianca frowned as she looked at the flowers, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Had I misread all the signals?

But then her eyes moved to mine and she asked, “We’d talked about a white iris. What made you think my dress was going to be pink?”

I let out a low breath and my chest lightened.That, I could answer.

“It wasn’t hard,” I told her. Although I hadn’t known for sure, Bianca drifted to a particular style of clothing—something unique to her. Her choices were gentle and feminine, and matched her personality entirely.

I wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You always wear the same stuff,” I explained, and the lines of her forehead softened. “I knew you’d pick out something—”Cute. “—like that. It looks good.”

“Okay.” Her blush deepened as she held out her hand for me. I got the hint and opened the corsage, sliding it onto her wrist. “Thanks.”

Mr. Geier cleared his throat. Bianca’s parents exchanged a glance before Mrs. Geier, who was normally so accepting of me, smiled shakily.

“I’ll take your picture,” she said, holding up a silver camera. “For you to remember this, just in case things change. You never know what the future might hold.”

Bianca shot her mother a hurt look, but she didn’t notice. However, it didn’t linger, and by the time she moved beside me, as we stood together in front of her parent’s huge front door, Bianca was blushing again as she stared at the floor.

We didn’t touch at all for the photo—and it wasn’t because, underneath her tough exterior, Bianca was more on edge than ever before. Although, that was one reason. There was also that, if she were to let me take her hand, it might look like we were a real couple.

The flower, I could pretend ignorance, but not this. I had to draw the line somewhere.