Stella was at the market because she needed supplies for her voyage, not because she was looking for someone. 

        She was thinking about how much bread she would need for a week at sea and how much extra rope she should buy in case of a storm. She was reviewing charts in her mind and mapping out routes. She was certainly not sneaking glances across the marketplace, searching for a face in the crowd.  

        And if she had been, that face certainly wouldn’t have been Violet’s.  

       The girl at the flower stand lived a quiet, predictable life in a quiet, predictable town. She didn’t care for adventures or glory or gold, and more importantly, she didn’t care for Stella. 

        At least, not enough to sail away with her.  

        So Stella had vowed to herself that she would walk through the market without sparing a thought for Violet. 

        Stella looked around the crowded town square. Nearby, a vendor had set up a stand selling ceramic jars. They were fragile, finely made things wouldn’t be of any use of the high seas, but Stella made a point of examining each of them, inspecting every divot and paint stroke.  

        She felt ever so slightly victorious about what a good job she was doing not thinking about a certain flower stand girl.  

        But wait. Did thinking about not thinking about Violet still count as thinking about her?    

        Stella frowned to herself. She decided that for all practical purposes, it didn’t.  

        That was when someone ran straight into her back. Stella stumbled forward, nearly knocking over the jars.  

        “What the—” She turned to face her accidental assailant.  

        A petite woman stood in front of her. She wore a smock the color of sunshine, and her hair hung loose around her face. She had woven sprigs of bluebells into her dark chestnut curls.   

       Oh no.  

        “Hey, Violet.” 

        Violet smiled sheepishly. “Hi, Stella. Sorry about that. It’s way too crowded this morning.” 

        Stella gave her a half-smile. “It’s fine.” 

        For a moment, they regarded one another wordlessly. Stella was trying to come up with an excuse to hurry away when Violet broke the silence. “It’s today, isn’t it? You’re leaving.” 

        Stella looked down at the dusty ground, suppressing a sigh. This was the exact conversation she had been hoping to avoid. “Yeah.” 

        “And you won’t be coming back,” Violet said quietly—more of a statement than a question. 

        “Probably not.”  

        Stella watched as Violet fiddled with the cuffs of her ruffled sleeves. Stella had thought this stop was just another lull between journeys—nothing more than a breath of air before the need to travel on called her away--the need to be free. But she hadn’t counted on this. This was the girl who had smiled at her on her first day in town. The girl who would always save an extra blossom for Stella when the market closed for the day. Who would walk along the pier with her while the sun set and sit beside her while they watched the stars wink to life above the sea.  

       “It isn’t too late for you to come with me,” Stella blurted. 

        Violet smiled sadly. “You know that it was too late from the moment you met me. This place is my home.” 

        “But does it have to be? Think about it, Violet. You could sail the world, instead of spending your whole life stuck here. You could have another home. With me.” 

        Without another word, Violet turned away. 

        That night, a full moon rose over the bay, painting the rippling water silver. Beyond, she could hear the crashing of waves. Stella ambled up the dock, turning to glance at the town one final time. She knew that Violet would be gathering up the day’s earnings and heading back to her cozy house on the street corner. But as she neared her boat, Stella saw someone silhouetted against the moonlight. She smiled when she caught the scent of flowers on the air.