The Rose is No Longer Gentle, Nor is Her Love

After seven years of dating, Bradley Kane, who had never given me flowers before, sent me 9,999 roses and a set of lingerie for my birthday.

I happily posted about it on social media, only for his 'ideal woman' to comment underneath: [Some people can only pick up the trash I don't want.]

That's when I learned that he had bought a house for her, right below our marital home. The gifts he gave me were actually meant for her.

I personally delivered the flowers to them and caught them having a candlelit dinner together.

Bradley, without any hesitation, cursed at me, "Can you stop being so dirty-minded? Veronica and I are just discussing business. Besides, if there really was something between us, would you have even had the chance to marry me?"

In the past, I would have argued with him endlessly to get to the truth. But this time, I just casually tossed the flowers and my engagement ring at him and said calmly, "I wish you both happiness."

——

The ring rolled to Bradley's feet. He sneered and stepped on it, crushing both my dignity and love beneath his heel and harshly said, "If you want to marry me, change your suspicious and paranoid nature. Now stop getting in the way. We've got serious matters to discuss. Go home and reflect on yourself."

Listening to his familiar accusations, I felt an unexpected sense of peace.

After leaving Veronica's place, I posted the news of Bradley's infidelity in the family group chat, telling everyone I was calling off the engagement.

The man who never replied to my messages instantly posted a photo of his computer in the group, claiming: [Just handling work with a female subordinate.]

Then he expertly shifted the blame onto me, saying: [Yasmine, you don't need to throw a tantrum just because I didn't buy you that eight thousand wedding dress.]

[I never even brought up the fact that you used my credit card to drink at bars with male friends.]

The once-silent group chat suddenly erupted. My mother was the first to jump in, berating me with all sorts of vicious words, telling me I wasn't worthy of Bradley and demanding that I apologize to him.

She even threatened that if I missed out on such a good marriage, she would die to prove her point. Seeing this predictable outcome, I sighed softly and exited the group chat.

After my parents divorced, my mother became increasingly irritable. Growing up in such a stifling environment, I had been drawn to Bradley's seemingly gentle and polite demeanor.

But after seven years together, I realized that he was nothing like what he appeared to be. His kindness and patience were reserved for Veronica Jones.

His courtesy and respect were for strangers. With me, there was nothing but endless cold violence and hurtful, sarcastic remarks.

He was particularly skilled at provoking me into anger in front of others, watching me break down and cry, furiously questioning him, while he pretended to be the understanding one, generously offering forgiveness.

Everyone thought I was just an unreasonable, crazy woman. But this time, he had miscalculated.

Only those who are unwilling to let go cause a scene. A heart that has already withered will not be stirred by him again.

When Bradley returned with a wilted bouquet of roses, I was lying leisurely on the sofa, scrolling through my phone.

He scoffed, "Why haven't you cooked dinner? Still mad? Enough is enough. Haven't you always wanted me to buy you flowers? I got them, so stop sulking." He threw the wet roses in front of me.

I used to envy the girls walking down the street, holding fresh bouquets, their faces filled with happiness. I had mentioned it to Bradley many times, but he was always impatient.

He scolded me, "If I'd known you were such a vain woman, I wouldn't have gotten involved with you! It's not that I can't afford it, but Yasmine, do you, an unaccomplished housewife who only washes clothes and cooks, even deserve it?"

He accused me of being lazy and materialistic, conveniently forgetting that it was he who lured me into quitting my job with the promise of marriage.

In Bradley's eyes, I was only fit to be his maid. He was too stingy to buy me a single rose but had no problem gifting Veronica a house and a sea of flowers.

Just earlier, I saw a post on Veronica's social media. They had taken a rose petal bath together, laughing and playing in the tub.

After ruining those 9,999 roses, they picked out a few intact ones and brought them to me. I looked at the bouquet in disgust and kicked it away with my foot.

Then I lifted my gaze to Bradley and said seriously, "I don't like dirty, second-hand goods. I don't like dirty second-hand men even more."