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The flower that waited for me

I have the late watering shift at the university greenhouse, and there's a night-blooming cereus in the succulent room that flowers maybe one night a year. Nobody knew which night. Wednesday, 11:40pm, I walked in and the whole room smelled like vanilla and something like oranges. The flower was open, bigger than my hand, glowing white under the one security light, with the moon right behind it through the glass roof. I know the science: night bloom, pale petals, strong scent, it's all for the moths. I wrote it up properly in my lab notebook, Latin name and everything. But I also stood there and said thank you out loud, because it felt like it had waited for me. By 7am it had closed for good.