Everyone in the neighborhood saw Aiden as nothing more than a problematic introvert child with strange behavior.
He had no friends and no family to rely on. His parents were too busy fighting over their divorce, treating him like a ping-pong ball neither wanted.
I could still vividly remember that bone-chilling winter in this city, where Aiden huddled in the stairwell, shivering in nothing but a thin undershirt.
I felt sorry for him and brought him home.
Not long after, while playing a simple game, my father accidentally discovered his astonishing talent for math.
From that moment on, Aiden was changed.
He won the Math Olympiad at the age of ten and was accepted into the best university without taking any exams at fourteen. By sixteen, his published research was gaining international acclaim and his awards began to pile up.
The same couple who hadn't wanted him were now fighting over custody. Yet he still knelt before my father, pleading with all his heart.
"I know exactly who has been kind to me and who truly loves me," he said. "From today on, you and Mrs. Jones are my real parents. I will definitely take good care of you and Nina."
Thereafter, Aiden strived for success, never once thinking of abandoning me.
When he received his university placement, he insisted that they lower the admission score so that I could attend with him. When he became a professor, he demanded that they create a staff position for a family member.
I worried I wouldn't be able to keep up with his pace, but Aiden looked at me and said, "The year I was eight, my parents divorced. Neither of them wanted me. I sat alone on the stairs from dusk till dawn, until you found me and took me in. From that moment, I swore I would never leave you. Nina, without you, I wouldn't be who I am today. No matter how high I fly, I'll never abandon you."
That's the kind of person he was, exceptionally stubborn. Once he set his mind on something, he never let go.
Whether it was his research, pursuing me, or even when he was cheating on me.
"Cheated?" Hearing that, Sabrina's eyes widened in disbelief. "You two were childhood sweethearts, grew up together, had such a deep relationship and he still cheated?"
"Who's the mistress? Is she a rich heiress or a stunning beauty? Is she one of those scheming, alluring and vicious femme fatales from TV dramas?" she asked exasperatedly.
None of those.
Aiden's mistress was a dark-skinned, thin and plain-looking flower seller.
By that time, Aiden had already achieved remarkable success in his career. He no longer chased fame or fortune. Instead, he poured his energy into personal hobbies.
He wasn't into stocks, fishing, or tea. But he suddenly developed an interest in flowers.
Imported, cheap, common, rare—Aiden collected them all, bringing them all to his little garden.
Among them, his favorite was the iris I gave him on his birthday.
"It was this flower that sparked my interest in flowers all over the world," he once said. "Such an unremarkable little seed, yet with human care, it can bloom into something so beautiful. The whole process is just fascinating."
He said he loved the flowers, but he loved the process of their blooming even more.
In this small world, he was the god who controlled everything. Blooming, withering, fading, blossoming, it was all his to command.
I couldn't understand what Aiden was saying. A flower was just a flower. It bloomed when it wanted, fell when it was time. Why bother with all that?
That was when Eryn Ziegler, who was helping us move the flowers that day, suddenly lifted her head.
