Chapter 2

2

Darkness slowly swallowed the sky, but Everett never returned.

I sat on the wooden swing in the backyard, letting the chilly night wind wrap around me.

The roses that once symbolized our love swayed in the freezing breeze, mocking my foolishness.

I knelt down, grabbed a rose stem with my bare hand, and pulled it up by the roots.

The sharp thorns instantly dug deep into my palm.

A sharp wave of pain washed over me.

On pure instinct, I dialed Everett’s number.

After a long, agonizing ringtone, the line went dead. He had rejected my call.

A second later, Kelsey sent me another photo.

In the picture, Everett’s eyes burned with feral desire as he buried his mouth against her collarbone.

Everett, it hurts so much.

Can you hear me?

Tears streamed down my cheeks. I forgot―your heart belongs to someone else now, and you can’t hear my pain anymore.

I curled up like a helpless child, hugging my knees amid the ocean of flowers.

The cloying scent of roses suddenly made my stomach churn with disgust.

I reached out and ripped out another rose, then a second, and a third.

When we were in love, I could never get enough of this garden. Now, looking at them, they felt like an unbearable mockery.

I walked back inside and grabbed a pair of pruning shears.

Flower heads dropped one after another, scattering across the dirt that had once nourished them.

Since our love had turned into a sick joke, I didn’t want these roses either.

Everett didn’t come home until the dead of night, just as the landscapers I hired cleared away the very last stem.

The fresh bouquet of roses in his hands looked painfully out of place.

Every rose in this yard had been planted by his own hands, a project he once called one of his greatest masterpieces.

Yet even after I destroyed his pride and joy, he still walked toward me with that same gentle smile.

“What’s wrong, Rosa? Who upset my sweet girl?”

I stared at his face for a long time, searching for even the faintest trace of anger, but found none.

I looked away, my voice muffled by the cold air. “I just don’t like roses anymore.”

He took my hand warmly. “That’s fine. Tell me what you like, and I’ll plant them all over again.”

Look at him. Always so gentle, always so patient, wearing his perfect mask.

Yet behind closed doors with Kelsey Finch, he was an entirely different creature.

Everett, which version of you is real?

Suddenly, he gasped and lifted my hand, seeing the dried blood in the porch light.

“You’re hurt! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Did I not tell you? You were the one who refused to listen.

He dropped to one knee before me, his long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks as he carefully applied ointment to my cuts.

“I called you,” I said quietly. “You hung up on me.”

His hand froze for a second. “I... I was in a meeting. My assistant must have declined it by mistake.”

A lie. After all these years, I knew every single tell he had, including the tiny stutter he made whenever he lied.

None of it mattered anymore.

Everett, I don’t want you anymore.