Spring always carried a bittersweet fragrance for Iris Kate. Each soft breeze tugged at the chains of shattered truths and miserable memories she worked so hard to bury. A florist with a broken heart, Iris had long since lost her faith in love. Weddings and love-themed requests were her least favorite, and she avoided them whenever she could.

Early that morning, she made her way to her shop, eager to receive a shipment of rare orchids for the town’s upcoming garden exhibit. But when she arrived, a notification informed her the delivery had already been made—though she hadn’t received it. Panic prickled at her nerves. Those orchids were essential, and any delay could ruin her preparations.

After some frantic investigation, she discovered the shipment had been mistakenly delivered to the local greenhouse. The place was owned by Kael Arden, a man with a reputation as cold and distant as winter frost. An excellent botanist, Kael was known for his unyielding dedication to plant research and his preference for solitude. Now, she had no choice but to confront him.

Iris tightened her scarf as she approached the greenhouse, her frustration growing with every step. The sprawling glass structure loomed ahead, its transparent walls revealing rows of vibrant greenery and meticulously arranged plants. She had heard plenty about Kael Arden, the town’s reclusive botanist, but she had never had the displeasure of meeting him in person—until now.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, the humid warmth inside immediately hitting her like a wall. Rows of exotic plants stretched before her, each one arranged with obsessive precision. In the center of the greenhouse stood a tall man, his back to her as he carefully examined the leaves of a delicate fern.

“Excuse me,” Iris called, her voice sharper than intended.

Kael turned slowly, his expression as impassive as stone. Dark hair fell across his forehead, and his piercing eyes assessed her coolly. “Can I help you?” he asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

“Yes, you can,” Iris replied, stepping forward. “I believe you’ve received a shipment of rare orchids this morning—ones that were meant for me.”

Kael raised an eyebrow, his fingers brushing a leaf before folding his arms. “And you are?”

“Iris Kate. I run the flower shop in town,” she said, her irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. “Those orchids were delivered here by mistake, and I need them back. I’m preparing for the garden exhibit, and they’re critical to my display.”

Kael didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he studied her as if she were one of his plants—something to be analyzed and cataloged. “If they’re critical, perhaps you should have ensured the delivery was accurate,” he said coolly.

Iris blinked, stunned by his audacity. “Excuse me? It’s not my fault the delivery service made a mistake!”

Kael shrugged, his indifference infuriating. “Mistakes happen. But I’ve already unpacked them. They’re in quarantine for observation.”

“Quarantine?” Iris echoed, incredulous. “They’re flowers, not diseased animals! I don’t have time for this.”

Kael tilted his head, his gaze steady. “Rare orchids can carry pests or infections that could harm my collection. I’m not releasing them until I’m sure they’re safe.”

Her frustration boiled over. “I don’t care about your collection, Mr. Arden. Those orchids belong to me, and I need them now.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, the only sound the gentle hum of the greenhouse’s heaters. Finally, Kael sighed, as if agreeing was a great inconvenience. “Fine,” he said. “But if there’s so much as a single pest, you’re paying for the damage.”

“Deal,” Iris snapped.

Kael gestured for her to follow him, and as they walked deeper into the greenhouse, Iris couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “Cold as a glacier.”

“Excuse me?” Kael asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, her cheeks heating despite the coolness of her tone.

The phone in Iris’s hand felt heavier as she listened to the caller on the other end. Her eyes scanned the quiet shop, the peaceful atmosphere now a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her.

“Iris,” the voice on the phone began, crisp and formal, “we’ve decided to add a new element to the garden exhibit—a more exotic setup with rare flowers. We’ve reviewed your proposal and think it’ll be a great addition. However, we’ve also brought in a botanist for the planting arrangements. We’ve contacted Kael Miller to handle that aspect.”

Iris blinked, her stomach sinking. Kael Miller? Her mind immediately flashed back to the greenhouse, to the man whose cold demeanor had already ruffled her feathers. She could already picture the scene: her colorful, carefully designed floral displays clashing with his rigid, scientific approach.

“Wait a minute,” she interjected, trying to keep her voice steady, “I’m not sure I understand. We need to plant these exotic flowers, right?”

“Yes,” the voice replied. “That’s right. But Kael’s expertise with rare plants and his ability to ensure they thrive in this climate is what we need. He’ll be working alongside you to get the job done.”

Iris’s heart dropped. There was no getting out of it. “So, you’re saying I have no choice but to work with him?”

There was a pause on the other end, the sound of papers shifting. “I’m afraid so, yes. This is a high-profile project, and we need the best results. We trust you both can make it work.”

Iris’s jaw tightened. Make it work? With him? The idea of collaborating with Kael Miller felt like a cruel twist of fate. Their earlier exchange had been full of sharp words and cold stares, and now she had to rely on him to help make her vision come to life?

She forced a tight smile, even though the other person couldn’t see it. “Of course. I’ll make it work.”

She hung up the phone with a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Kael. Of course. She had barely survived their first interaction, and now she had to share creative space with him. It was going to be a long, tense few weeks.

Iris stood outside the greenhouse, her fingers wrapped tightly around her notepad. She had a plan. She was going to approach Kael professionally, calmly outline their respective tasks, and ensure they could work together without the usual friction. It was the logical, diplomatic thing to do, and if she could keep her cool, surely they could avoid any further tension.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside, the warm, humid air enveloping her instantly. The scent of earth and greenery filled her lungs. Kael was standing at the far end of the greenhouse, bent over a table, his back to her as he carefully examined some seedlings. For a moment, she hesitated—he looked as absorbed in his work as ever, but she couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer.

"Kael," she called out, her voice carrying through the large space.

He didn’t respond. She took a step closer, feeling irritation bubbling in her chest.

"Kael," she repeated, this time louder, but he still didn’t look up.

She clenched her teeth, walking toward him with purpose. "Kael!"

Finally, he looked up, his dark eyes flicking over her with an expression that didn’t even hint at surprise. His focus seemed undisturbed, as if she were nothing more than a distant echo in his world.

“What do you want, Iris?” he asked, his voice as cold and detached as ever, barely pausing from his work.

She fought to keep her composure, her blood beginning to boil at the lack of acknowledgment. "We need to discuss how we’re going to handle the planting for the exhibit. It’s a big project, and we have to be professional about it."

Kael’s eyes flickered briefly over her before returning to his work. "I’ll do my part. You do yours," he said dismissively, his voice as flat as his demeanor.

Iris’s hands tightened into fists. Is this how he worked? Like she didn’t even exist beyond the inconvenience of a shared task? She tried again, taking a deep breath to rein in her mounting frustration.

“No, that’s not how this is going to work. We need to divide up the tasks properly. You handle the rare flowers, and I’ll take care of the rest. We’ll plan everything so it all fits together—no confusion, no arguments.” She forced the words out, keeping her tone level despite her growing irritation.

Kael didn’t even spare her another glance. He picked up a watering can and began to spray his plants, his actions slow and deliberate. The complete lack of interest in her proposal made her blood boil. He was acting as though she was talking to a cold stone statue, not a colleague.

“This is important, Kael,” she snapped, stepping closer. “If we’re going to work together, we have to communicate. I can’t do this if you’re going to ignore everything I say.”

He didn’t look up from his task. "I’m not ignoring you. I’m just doing what I do best. You do what you do best. We’ll get it done."

Her patience snapped. She wasn’t used to being dismissed so easily, especially not when she was trying to be reasonable. "This isn’t about doing what we ‘do best,’ Kael! This is about working together to create something great. It’s a team effort, not a solo project."

Finally, he set the watering can down and turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "I don’t need a ‘team effort.’ I’m perfectly capable of handling things on my own."

Iris was seething now, every word from him only pushing her further. “You’re impossible!” she exploded, her voice rising. “This project isn’t just about you, Kael! It’s about a collaboration. I don’t know how you work, but you’re going to have to learn how to at least pretend to care about what I’m saying.”

For a brief moment, his eyes softened—just a fraction—and there was the slightest flicker of something—apology? Or perhaps just the recognition of her frustration. But it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“I’ll do my job, Iris,” he said quietly, his tone less harsh now but still distant. “You do yours. We’ll get it done. No need to complicate things.”

His nonchalance left her speechless. For a moment, she stood there, trying to calm the storm raging inside her. She realized that if she didn’t walk away now, she’d say something she might regret.

“Fine,” she bit out, turning on her heel. “We’ll see how this ‘solo’ project goes.”

She stormed out of the greenhouse, her heart pounding in her chest. The last thing she wanted was to spend the next few weeks battling Kael’s indifference. But there was no turning back now. The work had to be done.

The next morning, Iris arrived at the greenhouse early, as usual, her mind already filled with the tasks ahead. She had gotten used to the quiet, methodical nature of Kael’s work, but the tension between them still lingered in the air, unspoken and thick.

She barely had time to settle in before Kael approached her, his tone, as always, clipped and direct. “I need you to help carry this one.” He gestured to a tall plant, its dark green leaves vibrant against the muted light of the greenhouse. It looked delicate, fragile even.

Iris raised an eyebrow. “That one?” she asked, eyeing the plant carefully.

“Yes. It has thorns, so be careful. Don’t let it fall, alright?” Kael’s voice was low, almost cautious. “It’s rare, and it’s not in season, so I’ll need it to survive. We can’t afford any mistakes with this one.”

Iris nodded, trying to keep her anxiety at bay. The thorns were intimidating, but she didn’t want to appear fragile in his eyes. He might already think she was a nuisance, so she had to prove herself capable.

She carefully approached the plant, gingerly gripping the base, mindful of the thorns. But as she started to move, something on the floor caught her attention—a dark, viscous liquid spreading across the tiles. Before she could react, her foot slipped on the slick surface, and she lost her balance.

Time seemed to stretch as her body tumbled forward. She tried to catch herself, but it was too late. With a sharp cry, she landed hard on the floor, the thorny branches of the plant scraping across her skin as she fell. A searing pain shot through her arm, and she winced as blood trickled from several small cuts, the thorns having punctured her skin with brutal precision.

For a moment, everything was silent except for her ragged breathing and the thud of her heartbeat in her ears.

And then, Kael’s angry voice sliced through the stillness.

“What did I tell you?” His eyes were wide with fury, and his face had darkened with frustration. He strode over to her, his steps heavy with purpose. “I told you to be careful!”

Iris winced, her hand instinctively clutching at the scratches on her arm, but it wasn’t just the pain that made her eyes sting. His words hit her harder than any thorn. He was angry, but there was something else there—a harshness in his tone that made her feel smaller than she already did.

“I—I was careful,” she stammered, her voice shaky, trying to stand but failing to balance. “The floor was slippery—”

“I don’t care about the floor!” Kael snapped, his voice rising. “I told you the plant was delicate, and you’re still acting like it’s a joke!” He paced back and forth, his fists clenched at his sides, visibly agitated. “Now look what you’ve done! It’s rare, Iris. This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

His words stung like salt on an open wound. Iris’s chest tightened, and the frustration she’d been holding in all week broke free. It wasn’t just about the plant anymore—it was the way he spoke to her, as if she were completely incompetent, as if her mistake was unforgivable.

She felt her cheeks flush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She tried to speak, but her throat felt tight, the weight of his anger making it hard to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Kael, still seething, barely looked at her as he bent down to examine the plant. “Sorry isn’t going to fix this,” he muttered.

Iris stood there, her arm throbbing with pain, but it wasn’t the physical hurt that made her feel weak—it was the emotional blow. His lack of concern for her injury, the way he dismissed her apology so easily, felt like a sharp betrayal.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked toward the door, her steps heavy. Her heart pounded in her chest, her head spinning from the hurt she couldn’t shake.

Kael’s voice called after her, but she didn’t stop. “Iris, wait!”

But she didn’t listen. She couldn’t stay there any longer, not with the sting of his words still ringing in her ears.

“I’ll start my work once the materials arrive,” she called back over her shoulder, her voice trembling but determined. “I’ll stay out of your way until then.”

With that, she pushed through the greenhouse doors, the sharp scent of flowers and earth lingering in the air as she left.