He Nurtured Roses, While I Grew Wild

He Nurtures Roses, While I Grew Wild

During the toughest times of our startup, when it was 38.9°C outside, we couldn't even afford an air conditioner.

The young master of the Jones family, Gavin Jones, humbled himself to share a small iron bed with me, fanning me throughout the night.

Later, when he fell asleep, his phone showed only one unread message.

"Don't sleep. You promised to stay up with me all night."

That's when I realized he had tortured himself to stay awake just so he wouldn't miss any messages.

The delicate rose he carefully nurtured eventually blossomed, and soon after, Gavin began asking me to bear him a child.

"Her health isn't good. You're the one who looks most like her."

It finally dawned on me. The past five years of hardship, and the child in my womb — all of it was misplaced trust.

——

Gavin, fast asleep, still clutched the fan tightly.

He murmured in his sleep, mechanically lifting his arm to fan me a few times.

As I looked at this supposedly devoted man, my lips hadn't even fully curved into a smile before I saw a new message light up on his phone.

"Don't fall asleep. You promised to stay with me all night."

After a two-second silence, I compulsively opened the sender's profile picture.

It was a small cat, the same stray cat Gavin and I often fed.

Her profile photo radiated youthful energy: a high ponytail and an uninhibited, genuine laugh, like the sound of cicadas on a scorching summer day.

In that moment, I realized my boyfriend was entering a second spring of his life.

The girl's name on the chat was simply "Daisy."

I opened Gavin's contact list. There was no label or nickname, but he called her at least three times a day.

Just yesterday, he had told me there was an urgent matter at work, standing downstairs for nearly forty minutes on the phone.

I had no idea what could take so long to discuss.

The screen kept lighting up.

"Are you asleep? Why haven't you replied?"

"Tomorrow's my coming-of-age ceremony. Are you coming? My parents want to pick a suitor for me."

"Sigh, I really don't want to live like this forever."

"Gavin, are you listening?"

I took a deep breath, snapped a photo of the chat, and set it back to unread.

Maybe because I didn't sleep well, my hands were trembling, making it hard to focus the camera.

Rubbing my eyes, the words on the screen seemed to blur.

I recalled a joke I had read a few days ago. If you feel loved, it's because you've forgotten to check their phone.

How damn appropriate.

"Diana."

I reflexively poured him a cup of hot water but stopped short, bringing it to my own lips instead.

"Today is our five-year anniversary. Have you decided how we're going to spend it?"

Seeing I didn't reply, Gavin froze for a moment, then quickly got out of bed and sat by my feet.

"Did I do something wrong to upset you, Diana? You didn't make your usual honey water for me today."

He really was handsome, and with him kneeling in front of me from this angle, his bloodshot eyes looked even more pitiful.

When I first met him, my friends joked that I had struck gold by landing such a catch.

After finding out he was the young master of the Jones family, they all swarmed around me, convinced we would marry, have kids, and live happily ever after.

Even I almost believed it.

A tear began sliding down his prominent nose.

"Diana, please don't ignore me, don't leave me..."

Gavin muttered.

In the past, I always teased him for being a crybaby, knowing full well that his sobbing was just a ploy to get me to feel sorry for him. Yet, each time, I couldn't help but soften.

But now, I felt nothing but disgust.

A wave of nausea hit me. Part of me wanted to scream at him, demand answers, while another, darker part wondered who he would choose in the end — which of us mattered more?

His phone vibrated again, but he acted as if he hadn't heard it.

"Someone's texting you, Gavin."

"Ignore it. That lot at work wouldn't know how to survive without me. Why else would I keep them around?"

It was a boring topic, so I said instead, "I'm thinking about adopting Lucky."

He looked up, surprised, then grabbed his phone in a flurry, regaining his composure.

"Why that thought? Didn't I say I want to marry you?"

"You know the company's not off the ground yet. The old folks at home will definitely object. But if..."

He paused, bringing up the one thing we had argued about before.

"If we have a child, we can marry and no one will stand in our way."

"I even asked a doctor. It's best not to have pets when you're trying to conceive. Imagine if you became allergic, wouldn't that be a hassle?"

"Don't you want to be with me forever?"

His reasoning was sound, every argument perfectly logical if you ignored the fact that his fingers were practically flying over his phone screen.

Our backgrounds were an uncrossable divide, but I never saw myself as inferior.

Love, in my mind, should be a free and equal collision of hearts.

We had been together for so many years. Gavin had been nothing but attentive, and he had worn me down day after day, begging me to have a child with him. I was on the verge of agreeing. So close.

Just yesterday, I had convinced myself that I would tell him the good news today.

He was a good man. He deserved my complete trust.

How ironic.

"Diana."

Gavin furrowed his brow, still staring at his phone.

"Father's making me attend a product launch today. It's a new product from the company. I have to make an appearance."

"I'll be back tonight, for sure. I even have a gift for you."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he leaned down to kiss my cheek, like it physically pained him to leave.

"Sorry, Diana."

Such a perfect excuse.

Within a minute of leaving the house, Gavin sent me screenshots of his conversation with his father — time, location, and a photo of the secretary attending with him.

As expected, he'd continue updating me on every stage of the event throughout the day.