It was our seventh wedding anniversary when my wife sent me 999 roses. The moment I was discharged from the emergency room, I called her, my voice flat, and told her I wanted a divorce. On the other end, her assistant was crying as he apologized: “Leo, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry with Sera.” Seraphina gently comforted him for a long time, then coldly told me, “Fine. Have it your way.” I didn’t see her again for half a month. “Make me some noodles.” Seraphina came home early that morning. Unlike usual, there was no breakfast on the table. She frowned automatically, barked a few orders, and headed to the bathroom. When she came out, steam curling around her, I was still staring blankly at the TV. She pulled several designer watches from her suitcase. “Look at these—do you like any?” They were all trending styles right now. She used to cater to my tastes when she was trying to win me over. Now these gifts were just her way of brushing me off. I didn’t bother looking. I picked up the remote, changed the channel, and asked: “When do you have time to finalize the divorce?” Seraphina was always busy; even our anniversary gift had been picked out by her assistant. When it came to scheduling, I always had to work around her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Adrian didn’t know you hate roses—I’ll tell him next time.” She poured herself a small glass of red wine, settled into the armchair across from me, a faint, unreadable smile playing on her lips. Adrian had been Seraphina’s childhood friend, always carrying a torch for her. The moment they graduated, he jumped at the chance to become her personal assistant. Their closeness was undeniable—they even shared hotel suites on business trips. Honestly, I didn’t blame Adrian. After all, it takes two to make a relationship work. If she hadn’t wanted it, no one could have come between us. I let out an exaggerated yawn, rubbing my tired eyes. After a long silence, Seraphina assumed the conversation was over. She asked about our seven-year-old daughter’s latest test scores. I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I wasn’t holding back information to spite Seraphina. I genuinely didn’t know. The Seraphina family valued elite education. From a young age, the children were taught by private tutors in their sprawling estate, their daily schedules packed tight. It was laughable, really. This child was my own flesh and blood, yet the time I could spend with her was pitifully scarce. I’d protested, I’d argued, but Sera’s family remained unmoved. In their eyes, my marriage to Seraphina was a rare stroke of luck—a connection I shouldn’t have pushed for. As for anything else, I shouldn’t demand more. Seraphina rubbed her temples, telling me to focus more on Daisy: “At this rate, Adrian will be more of a parent to her than you are.” I understood. Last Friday was the only day I was allowed to pick up Daisy from school. I arrived an hour early and waited until dark, until the school gates closed. Adrian was the one who finally called to tell me that Sera had sent him to pick Daisy up for dinner. On the phone, I heard Seraphina’s voice. She was laughing, asking Adrian if he wanted to stay for soup. I snapped back to reality, giving Seraphina a humorless smile. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? I’ll leave right now—clear the space for him.” I don’t know which word struck a nerve with Seraphina. She fell silent for a few seconds, her face darkening. “My patience is limited. Leo, cut the crap with this nonsense.” She stood up and had barely taken two steps when I said calmly: “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m severely allergic to roses.”
A month earlier. That night, she got Adrian’s call and rushed out to help him with some client emergency. Meanwhile, I was having a severe asthma attack from the roses, struggling to breathe, practically blacking out. I barely managed to drive myself to the ER. The doctors gave me emergency treatment and told me the severe allergic reaction had taken a significant toll on my health. When I learned the allergy attack had left me with lingering health issues, I actually felt a strange sense of relief. Lying alone on a bed in the emergency observation room, I decided it was time to end this marriage. In the living room, Seraphina stood with her back to me, clutching her wine glass, her knuckles white. She didn’t ask why I hadn’t called her. She knew perfectly well how many times I’d called her that deep into the night. But no one picked up. “Since it’s already happened, let’s just accept it. Some things just can’t be forced.” Seraphina walked to the study, closing the door with a practiced hand. In seven years of marriage and countless arguments, I was always the one to back down first. However, this time, Seraphina never heard that familiar, compromising knock on the door again. Half an hour later, she opened the door, searching the sprawling house, but couldn’t find me… I was Seraphina’s first love. Who would have thought that a bright, accomplished rich girl from an affluent family would fall for a “bad boy” who spent his days cruising on a motorcycle, seemingly going nowhere? Our first meeting wasn’t exactly a fairytale. I was just cruising down a dimly lit alley when I spotted a group of street punks cornering her—the perfect student. One of them actually dared to whistle at me. So I revved my motorcycle, charged in, and while putting those punks in their place, I unintentionally saved this utterly bewildered girl. From then on, Seraphina was everywhere I went. She’d follow me home from school, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake her. She sent me roses; I coldly threw them away. She brought me a homemade lunch box that looked ridiculously fancy and expensive. I turned around and handed it to a homeless guy on the street. My friends used to tease me, saying I had a persistent and well-off admirer. Anyone could see we were from different worlds. But it was her who, when my alcoholic father beat me so badly I was afraid to go home, dragged me out of my hiding place and into the ER. As the doctor treated my wounds, she stood with her back to me, her shoulders shaking slightly, constantly wiping her face. The doctor, a mix of exasperated and amused, asked her, “You’re not the one hurt, why are you crying?” She said she didn’t know, just felt a crushing weight in her chest, like she couldn’t breathe. She even innocently asked the doctor, “Is there something wrong with my heart?” Outside the clinic, Seraphina awkwardly handed me a glass of water. “I can’t stand feeling this miserable anymore, Leo. Promise me you won’t let yourself get hurt again.” I ate the ice cream I’d bought from the hospital convenience store, mumbled a vague assent, then looked up and glared at her: “So, are you going to be my girlfriend then?” That day, both our faces were flushed red, like we had fevers. I confided a secret to Seraphina. Every time my dad got drunk and went off the rails, a wilted rose would appear in the house the next day—his pathetic excuse for an apology. So I told her, if she ever wanted to break up, she didn’t need to say a word. Just give me a single rose. “Don’t be silly, we’ll always be together.” The eighteen-year-old girl hugged me tight, forbidding me from even uttering the word ‘goodbye’.”
To pull me away from the chaos my father created, Seraphina found a way to take us both abroad. Her family, furious and determined to split us up, cut off most of her funds. Back then, besides going to class, we both worked two part-time jobs every day. Those days were brutal; we were constantly hustling. Yet, even when brushing our teeth, we’d make silly faces, trying to make each other laugh. In that tiny apartment, we laughed and played, our eyes only for each other. If only the rest of our lives could have stayed like that… “Leo? Are you alright?” The doctor’s question snapped me back to reality. It was the third day since I’d moved out of that house, and my old insomnia had returned. I was picking up my prescription at the pharmacy counter when I ran into Adrian. “Leo, why are you here alone?” Adrian’s face wore a perfectly calibrated look of concern. When I didn’t reply, he softened his voice: “Sera told me about your allergy… Don’t worry too much, you’re still young—your body will recover.” “Don’t worry, there won’t be any more ‘afters’ for us.” Just as I finished speaking, Sera walked over, a dark expression on her face. She was holding a pain relief spray. I didn’t know why she was angry. Adrian, looking a bit embarrassed, explained that he’d twisted his ankle slightly walking downstairs. It was a minor injury, nothing that really warranted a hospital visit, but Sera insisted he get it checked out—‘delaying’ their important work. Seeing the bag of medicine in my hand, Seraphina couldn’t help but ask: “Are you feeling unwell?” Ignoring her, I took my medicine and turned to leave. She actually reached out and took my bag. “Since when did you need to take these?” “Leo, I’m talking to you. How long are you going to keep this up?” Seraphina clearly thought I’d just stormed out in a fit of pique—a pathetic attempt to get her attention. That’s why, even now, she never asked where I was living or what I’d been doing these past few days. She unconsciously raised her voice, drawing glances from people around us. A flicker of exhaustion crossed my eyes. I took my medicine back and said softly: “I’m not putting on an act.” Perhaps my tone was too calm, and Seraphina thought my attitude had softened. She offered to drive me home first, then Adrian back to his company. But I shook my head. “You go about your business. I’ll go home on my own.” Home, meaning my own place.
My alcoholic father died in a car crash, leaving me with a small settlement. And that old house I’d always yearned to escape? It was now my only refuge. Watching my solitary figure leave, Seraphina’s lips moved, as if she wanted to follow, but Adrian grabbed her arm. His face slightly pale, he told her he suddenly felt dizzy and unwell. Probably low blood sugar from skipping breakfast. Seraphina hesitated, then ultimately didn’t follow. She turned towards a nearby vending machine instead. The day my lawyer was drafting the divorce papers, I happened to get a call from Seraphina. Her voice had a hint of urgency: “Daisy’s sick. Can you come to the family estate before five?” Before I could ask for more details, she hung up. I folded the printed agreement, feeling a small weight lift from my chest. When I arrived at the Seraphina family estate, nearly everyone was there, gathered for a family dinner. Daisy was nestled between Sera and Adrian. To any outsider, they would have looked like the perfect family. I walked over to my daughter, whom I hadn’t seen in a while. I bent down, wanting to caress her face, and softly asked her what was wrong. The little girl had Sera’s eyes, her whole face echoing Sera’s features. But Daisy recoiled from my hand, watching me warily, then turned to Adrian. A sharp pang went through my heart. Adrian gently pulled Daisy closer, saying in a soft voice: “Daisy isn’t sick, Leo. Are you sure you’ve been getting enough rest? Maybe you got it wrong?” The moment Adrian finished speaking, the rest of Sera’s family looked at me with undisguised contempt. I knew they secretly despised me, especially Sera’s sister, Chloe. She always thought I wasn’t good enough for her sister. For Sera’s sake, I’d always tolerated their disdain. But this time, I wasn’t going to hold back. I asked Seraphina, “You called and said Daisy was sick, asking me to come. I rushed across half the city to get here, and your ‘good friend’ says I got it wrong. Who’s lying? Who has the real problem here?” My directness seemed to catch Adrian off guard—a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. He opened his mouth, trying to explain something. But I didn’t give him the chance. I lowered my gaze, warning him in a flat tone: “Adrian, if you want to fawn over her, that’s your business.” “But don’t use my daughter in your little games. Otherwise, don’t blame me for not holding back.” The blunt sarcasm instantly made Adrian’s eyes well up. Seraphina put down her fork, her gaze icy as she looked at me: “Leo, you’re just overthinking things. Daisy has had a cold for days—have you, as a father, shown any concern for her?” “And you said you’d be here by five, but you’ve kept everyone waiting so long. Since you have no sense of time, go eat by yourself at the restaurant next door!” In this house, it seemed no one could defy her. A flicker of smug satisfaction crossed Adrian’s eyes. He pursed his lips, putting on a show of wanting to speak, of being deeply concerned for me. Chloe, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow at me, her gaze full of undisguised contempt. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, I turned to Martha, the nanny, who was standing nearby. “Martha, if you ever have some free time, come over to my place. I’d love for you to try my cooking.” I didn’t want Martha to feel like not eating with them was something shameful. Done, I met Seraphina’s gaze and gave her a contemptuous smile: “You disgust me.” Seeing me turn to leave, Seraphina suddenly stood up and grabbed my wrist, anger etched on her brow: “Where are you going? Did I say you could leave?!” Her self-righteousness actually made me laugh. “It has nothing to do with you. Let go.” Receiving a look from Adrian, Chloe immediately sneered at me: “Leo, after all these years, you’re still the same pathetic loser—useless as dirt.” Hearing this, Seraphina actually turned and snapped at Chloe: “Shut up!” Taking advantage of her distraction, I forcefully pulled my hand free. A searing pain shot through my wrist, igniting years of suppressed fury. I coldly swept my gaze across the room, my eyes finally settling on Chloe’s face—which was still alight with superiority. “I’ll show you what truly ‘ill-mannered’ looks like.” I slowly walked over to Chloe, picked up the bowl of her favorite cream soup in front of her, and poured it straight over her head. It didn’t happen suddenly, yet it caught everyone completely off guard. In the Seraphina family, “the one” who always quietly endured and backed down was actually doing something like this. For a few seconds, the sprawling dining room was eerily silent. Until Chloe finally reacted, letting out an ear-splitting shriek. The others in the room seemed to wake from a dream, beginning to loudly accuse me and comfort Chloe. The lavish family dinner instantly turned into a chaotic market. Yet, inside, I felt a strange surge of exhilaration. This was real life, vibrant and alive. So much noise, so much drama.
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