The Begonia Proved I Wasn't the One

Two cups of coffee down, and my husband, Sean Gibson, was still nowhere to be seen. He was rarely late.

I pulled up my phone, and a text popped in from him. "Something came up. Don't wait for me."

His message was as crisp and brief as ever.

I canceled our dinner reservation and went home alone.

Around 11:00 pm, a fashionably late "Happy Birthday" finally trickled in. Before I could even turn around, Sean headed straight upstairs.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from my friend, Yelena Johnson. "Happy birthday, Naomi! Come on, spill! What did Professor Gibson get you this year? Your clueless man finally got a clue…"

I stared at the screen for a moment and replied, "It's great. Let's catch up later."

I made myself a bowl of instant noodles, ate it, and went upstairs. The motion-sensor light flickered on with a warm glow.

I had tripped in the dark once during a late-night bathroom run, so Sean had installed them all over the house.

He was taking a shower. The water was humming behind the door.

I picked up his blazer tossed by the bed and realized it carried a light trail of fruity perfume.

Just then, his phone vibrated, and the screen lit up. "Sean, thanks for the snow-capped begonia. So you didn't forget after all."

It was from Bellona Swanson, his ex-girlfriend of seven years.

When the shower stopped, I called out to him through the door, "Did you buy the snow-capped begonia today?"

"I forgot. I'll get you one next time."

"Didn't you stop by the florist?" I asked.

Sean walked out while drying his hair with a towel. Water droplets were still clinging to the ends.

"No. Why ask?" He sounded perfectly honest, as if that text didn't exist at all.

I continued asking, "Was your ex, Bellona, at the class reunion today?"

His hands paused on the towel, and his brow furrowed slightly as he countered, "Why were you looking through my phone?"

"Ted posted on Instagram saying Bellona was back in town."

"Yeah, she was there." His voice was relaxed.

I continued, "When Ted and the guys came over last time, they asked if I liked begonias too. It made me wonder who else likes them."

Sean didn't answer right away. After a long pause, he finally said, "I'm going on a business trip next week. I'll find time to pick up a snow-capped begonia for you when I'm back."

"Don't bother," I replied.

An edge of impatience crept into his voice. "It's not like we have class reunions every day. It's been years since we all met up. I just couldn't break away to stop by a shop."

"You promised me," I said.

"Are you seriously doing this right now? I told you I'd make it up to you later."

"It's not about making it up."

"Then, what's the issue?" he asked. "So, I didn't get you a plant for your birthday. Have I not bought you enough stuff? How long are you going to keep picking a fight over this?"

It wasn't just my birthday.

Five years ago today, Sean confessed his feelings to me for the first time, and I said yes. He was so thrilled he stayed up all night.

I didn't say another word.

The lights went out, and soon his steady breathing settled beside me.

Unable to sleep, I took his phone and stepped out of the bedroom.

I opened Bellona's Instagram profile. Her latest post was from half an hour ago.

It was a photo of a pink-variegated snow-capped begonia. The leaves were a beautiful mix of rich pink hues alternating with apple green. How stunning.

The caption read, "Long time no see, snow-capped begonia."

Sean hadn't forgotten. He bought one—just not for me.

In the photo, a man's hand was lightly brushing the edge of a leaf. His fingers were long and slender, with a faint scar visible on the back of his hand.

Back when Sean was helping me in the kitchen, he burned himself by accident. I was sick with worry and spent a whole week treating his skin.

Most of Bellona's Instagram was dedicated to begonia care. I zoomed in on the photo and stared at it, again and again.

Sean wasn't wearing his wedding ring.

I set his phone back where it belonged and spent the rest of the night out on the balcony.

"Why are you up so early today?" Sean casually picked up my mug and took a sip.

"I couldn't sleep."

Morning sunlight spilled into the room. Sean reached over to draw the curtains slightly. "You always overthink things."

His usual condescending tone shut down any desire I had to talk.

The birthday cake had been sitting on the coffee table for too long. Melting cream trickled down the sides, making it look unappetizing.

Thinking back to that snow-capped begonia, I grabbed his gift and shoved it into the deepest corner of the closet.