I lay in a hospital bed for six months because of it, and in return, Ethan swore to me: “For life, for eternity, just the two of us.”
The scar on my back still ached whenever it rained.
The man who once stood at my hospital bed, eyes red with tears, promising to love me forever—
was now thoughtless enough to send me the same flowers for a whole month.
At first, I told myself he was just busy, overworked, that it was a mistake.
But now I wondered—was it really because of work?
Or… was it because another woman liked lilies?
At noon, Ethan called me on video as usual.
“Wife, I had six meetings today, I’m exhausted.”
“I don’t want to work anymore. I just want to come home and cuddle you.”
I didn’t say anything. That morning’s lilies were lying carelessly on the floor.
After eight years together, Ethan quickly noticed something was wrong.
“What’s wrong, wife? Wasn’t Hawaii fun enough? Or was today’s show not entertaining?”
I glanced at the time—1:30. On his desk, I saw some half-eaten Chinese takeout.
His mouth was still full, probably starving,
yet he immediately set down his chopsticks, noticing the flowers on the floor. His tone softened.
“Wife, did you not like today’s bouquet?”
“Oh, wait—are you upset because it’s been too many lilies lately?”
My expression shifted. I hadn’t expected him to notice so quickly.
So I cut straight to the point: “Yes. You know I like variety. Why have you been sending me lilies for a whole month?”
He slapped his forehead, frustrated. “Damn it, that’s my fault. Wife, the florist I usually order from had shipping problems.
I had to switch to another supplier, and they only specialize in lilies.
It’s my fault, I didn’t explain. I must’ve made you feel awful this month.”
He shoved aside his takeout and started typing furiously. “I’ll call them right now and ask if the shipment’s back!”
Just like countless times before, whenever it came to me, he panicked and rushed to fix it immediately.
I interrupted him. “Don’t. Just eat. Don’t starve yourself.”
Even Sophia, standing beside me, waggled her brows and muttered in English, “See? You wronged your good husband.”
Ethan smiled again. “So you’re not mad anymore, wife? Don’t worry, I already ordered from a new shop today. You’ll love it!”
After the call ended, the doorbell rang. Ding dong.
It was a massive bouquet of pink peonies.
Utterly dreamy.
I smiled as I accepted it—but then I saw the card.
And froze.