GREEN SPROUT HAVEN — LATE MORNING

The bell above the door gave a soft chime as Mark stepped in.

He didn’t mean to come this early.

He had a full schedule. A board meeting. A lunch with investors.

But he was here.

Again.

The shop was small — a breath of calm tucked between concrete and chaos. Sunlight filtered through hanging vines. The faint scent of soil, mint, and fresh coffee lingered in the air.

Kyle was kneeling beside a display table, rearranging succulents.

Messy ponytail. Paint on his hands. A tiny smear of dirt on his cheek.

Mark stood by the entrance, still and silent.

Kyle looked up.

He smiled.

“Hi! Welcome to Green Sprout Haven.”

Mark’s heart clenched.

That smile — effortless, open, not for show.

“...Thank you,” Mark replied, voice smooth, practiced.

Kyle stood, wiping his hands on his apron. “Are you looking for anything in particular? Houseplants? Gifts? We just got a new shipment of variegated pothos.”

Mark blinked. “I… don’t know what that is.”

Kyle chuckled. “That’s okay. It just means the leaves have pretty patterns. Good for beginners. No pressure, though. You can browse. Let me know if something speaks to you.”

He turned back to the succulents.

Mark watched him for a second too long.

Then casually asked, “What do you recommend for… people who don’t have time to water anything?”

Kyle turned back around. “No time, huh? You must be busy.”

Mark gave a tight smile. “Something like that.”

Kyle studied him for a second — and for a brief, terrifying moment, Mark thought he recognized him.

But Kyle just smiled again. “Cactus it is. Very forgiving.”

He walked over to a shelf and pointed. “Here. These guys are tough. Sun-loving. And if you forget about them, they won’t take it personally.”

Mark followed. “I like that.”

“You want one?”

“Sure,” Mark said. “Surprise me.”

Kyle reached for a tiny cactus in a clay pot — round and soft-looking, with a single bloom at the top.

“This one,” he said, holding it out with both hands like it was precious. “It’s stubborn. Kind of a diva. But it blooms once in a while when it feels safe.”

Mark didn’t move for a second.

Then took the plant carefully. “Sounds familiar.”

Kyle tilted his head. “You work in…?”

“Hospitality,” Mark said quickly. “Hotels. Management.”

Kyle nodded. “Stressful.”

“Sometimes.”

“You should take two cacti, then,” Kyle teased. “Double the emotional support.”

Mark laughed, quiet and genuine.

Kyle rang it up, gave him a small paper bag, and handed it over with a smile that felt like spring.

“Here. On the house. First-time customer special.”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “But—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kyle waved him off. “If you come back, you can buy the next one.”

Mark stared at him.

That gentle expression. The warm sincerity. The complete unawareness of who Mark was — and how fast he was already falling.

“...Then I guess I’ll have to come back.”

Kyle looked up at him.

Held his gaze for just a second too long.

Then smiled again.

“I’ll be here.”