The Bouquet That Was Never Sent

My phone continued to vibrate.

In the family group chat, my parents had filled the entire screen with a lengthy post celebrating Lydia’s completion of the university entrance exams.

Beneath it was an endless stream of congratulatory messages.

The lively atmosphere in the group made my hands and feet go numb.

I wanted to join in, but I soon realized there was no way for me to get a word in.

I typed and deleted my message over and over again. In the end, all I managed to send was a single reply.

[Congrats.]

The moment my message went through, the group fell silent. It was as though all that liveliness had been nothing but my imagination.

Every time I tried to join a conversation, this was how it ended. I had long since grown used to it.

I put my phone away, turned around, and headed back to the flower shop.

The owner looked at me with some surprise.

Plenty of students and parents had come to order flowers before the university entrance exams ended. However, someone who ordered four bouquets, one of them roses, was bound to leave an impression.

I paid no attention to her curious gaze. Instead, I smiled. “Hello. I’d like a bouquet of sunflowers, please.”

The woman came back to herself and handed me a bouquet of sunflowers in full bloom.

As she passed them to me, she smiled gently. “Sweetheart, may your future be bright and full of promise.”

I froze for a moment.

I had imagined that the first congratulations I received after the exams would come from Jerome and Lydia, perhaps from my parents too.

I never expected the first words of blessing to come from someone I barely knew.

I smiled as I accepted the flowers. “Thank you for your kind wishes.”

Holding the bouquet, I made my way home.

I rang the doorbell three times. No one answered.

I tried the keypad lock four times. Every attempt failed.

Sweat soaked through my shirt, and the sticky, clammy feeling made it hard to breathe.

A notification appeared on my phone.

In my parents’ latest social media post, Lydia sat in a brightly lit restaurant, her face glowing with a radiant smile.

Jerome sat beside her, holding a bouquet of Black Knight roses. His gaze was fixed on Lydia, filled with indulgence and pride.

On the table before them sat a cake celebrating the end of her university entrance exams.

The cake bore Lydia’s name. There was no cake and no place for me at that table.

Still, it was the caption beneath the photo that stung the most. My parents had put the word daughter in quotation marks.

I tapped the like button, then closed the app.

I studied the door lock for a moment before decisively entering Lydia’s birthday.

The lock clicked.

The golden afternoon sunlight spilled across the living room, bathing the entire house in warm hues.

I stood in the middle of the living room, yet a layer of frost had settled over my heart.

Another notification appeared on my phone. I opened it instinctively.

It was a report from the hospital. There were no other new messages.

In my unread messages sat a mass text wishing everyone good luck on their university entrance exams.

I crouched down and slowly saved the message to my favorites.

My phone screen flashed.

It was the only call my mother had made since the exams ended.

“Mom, if Lydia…”

The voice on the other end cut me off.