Now, Sir. - (Part 8) Lunch, Flowers and Something Real

I didn't ask him to show up. He did anyway.

I know I said updates wouldn’t return until Sunday.

But let’s be honest—y’all know me better than that.

I’m a hopper.

A chronic “omg I have to tell you what just happened” girly.

And four whole days of silence? I’d lose my mind.

Because this isn’t just a writing project anymore.

You’re not just my readers.

You’re my people.

My friends.

My front row.

And I couldn’t keep this one to myself. Today was my first day back at work.
Another 12-hour shift.
Another round of lives to save, charting to catch up on, and hallways to speed-walk through.

But this morning, when I checked my phone on break, I had a message from him.

Him: “What time is your lunch today?”
I blinked at the screen.
Me: “Noon.”
Him: “Perfect.”

Now… sir?

PERFECT???

Why do I suddenly feel like you’re up to something?

I stared at my phone, brow raised.
Me: “You trying to bring me lunch or what?”
Him: “Of course. Let me know what you’re craving, and I’ll go grab it.”

Sir.
PLEASE.

Because why does this man make my heart do the absolute most over the simplest things?

I told him Chick-fil-A.
Something easy. Something familiar.

But I should’ve known… it wasn’t just about the food.