Pam looked lovely in the candlelight. Her hair had a soft sheen, her eyes sparkled, and something in the fabric of her red sweater caught glints of the light, so that she looked like she’d been sprinkled in fairy dust. Jim smiled every time he looked at her.

She’d insisted that they have dinner at her place. “Restaurants are always so crowded and noisy on Valentine’s Day,” she’d said, and he didn’t argue. Whatever she wanted was usually fine with him. He was glad he hadn’t put up a fight- her small apartment smelled wonderful from whatever she was cooking. More to the point, he felt a warm glow every time he caught her grinning at the bouquet of roses he’d brought with him.

It was actually the second bouquet she’d received from him that day. He’d had the first delivered at work- a big, traditional vase filled with two dozen giant red roses. The card had read, “Take that, Mrs. Vance Refrigeration. Love, Jim.” Pam had laughed, beaming at him across the room.

This second bouquet was much smaller, made up of just four roses. Years earlier, in a moment of boredom Pam had found a website about the “language of rose colors” and had mentioned it to Jim over lunch. Like all of the millions of little things she told him, he had filed it away in his memory. He’d gone online to find the website earlier that week, and had ordered exactly this bouquet just for her.

The first rose was yellow, symbolizing “friendship turning into love.”

The next was blue- “something desired, but unattainable.”

 The third was white, which meant, “Love, unity and new beginnings.”

 In the center was one deep red rose, meaning simply “love.” In case she’d forgotten the specific meanings, he’d printed them neatly on the back of the card.

On the inside, he’d written simply, “This is our journey.”