I Died in the Garden He Made for His Lover

Everyone knew the flower seeds in the garden at Hillside Estate were the ones my parents died to protect. They were my lifeline—the only thing left of them.

Years ago, William spent tens of millions importing a climate-control system and specialized soil from overseas, all so I could cultivate those seeds.

An entire villa, not for living in, but for me to grow my flowers. That was how William proposed to me.

People on the outside laughed, called me flower-obsessed like my parents, said I truly had inherited their mission, that even William wasn't as important to me as those flowers.

But William's love for me was the one thing everyone agreed was beyond question.

So I always believed he loved me. That after my parents died, he was the person in this world who loved me most.

Until the night I made a last-minute decision to go back to Hillside Estate, and saw two figures standing in the sea of flowers I'd grown.

"William, this… this is incredible! I'm definitely winning at the International Floral Expo!"

He pulled her into his arms. "Why do you think I went through all of this? To keep her happy, keep her clueless, so she'd grow this whole garden for you without a second thought. You like it—that's all I care about."

So the tens of millions were never spent for me. The marriage was just a tool.

——

"William, but if June finds out, she'll be furious. She was planning to enter the competition too, and you know how things are between us…"

He cut her off. "Don't worry about that. Just bring the flowers to the competition on the fifteenth. All I want is to see you standing where you've always wanted to stand, shining." He kissed the top of her hair, the picture of tenderness. "I'll handle the rest. Trust me, I will never let her become an obstacle for you. She'll never be in your way."

I stood behind a Roman column, watching their silhouettes in the garden. The woman must have been beautiful. The dark green fitted dress made her figure look even better.

It hit me the way it had eight years ago, standing there watching my parents burn alive. Their voices kept trading places in my head, overlapping, doubling back, until nothing I was hearing matched anything I could feel. I stumbled out of the villa and couldn't hold it anymore, crouching on the roadside and throwing up until there was nothing left.

My eyes burned red. In the end I couldn't breathe, and all I could do was claw at the fabric over my chest, trying to make the pain ease up even a little.

There were only two things I had left in the world—William, and the seeds my parents left behind.

If either one ceased to exist, the pain would be more than I could survive.

I should have stepped out and confronted them right there. I knew that. But I had nothing left in me.

I could accept betrayal from anyone. Why did it have to be William?

I didn't even have the courage to confront him.

Born in the same delivery room, pulled into the world by the same doctor's hands. William, who had been by my side for as long as I could remember.

Why did it have to be him?

I pulled a slip of paper from my pocket, something I always carried with me, and stared at the faded writing.

My tears soaked through it.

The pain swallowed me whole, like it meant to consume every last part of me.

I crammed the paper into my mouth and forced it down, like swallowing every poisoned thing loving him had ever grown inside me.

Tears kept spilling, but when the call connected my voice came out without a single tremor. "I'll give you what you want. You help me with one thing. Can you do that?"

The person on the other end agreed without hesitation.