Three Years of Loving Her Leftovers

I heard the sounds of the front door's passcode being punched in at 8:00 pm.

Glenn Winchester walked through the front door with a beautiful white cake box in his hand. As soon as he entered, the entire living room was instantly overwhelmed by a strong scent of roses. The strong, cloying fragrance made me cough instinctively.

I remained seated on the couch without moving an inch.

After Glenn swapped his shoes for indoor slippers, he walked to the kitchen island and set the cake box down.

As he took off his tie, he made his way deeper into the kitchen so that he could wash his hands at the sink.

As soon as his gaze swept over the trash can, he froze in his steps.

"What the hell have you done, Willow Ashbury?"

Glenn whipped around, his brows already tangled into a deep frown. I could see him pointing at the broken stems lying inside the trash can.

"I was just taking out some trash," I replied coolly, my gaze fixated on Glenn's long and slender fingers.

After countless nights dealing with an absurdly huge amount of flowers, his thumbs and index fingers were covered in a few band-aids.

"I specifically picked out those eucalyptus branches and flowerless stems for you every month! Do you have any idea how expensive those imported plants are? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I happened to walk past the wedding venue outside Crescent Isle Hotel today."

The atmosphere went eerily silent as soon as my words fell. Glenn's fingers, which were still poised around his buttons, froze in mid-air.

When I looked at him, I caught the way his expression froze momentarily. It wasn't out of guilt—it was the panic that one felt when their secret was uncovered all of a sudden.

"Why did you visit the venue? Don't you know that you're allergic to pollen? What if your allergy got triggered back then, huh?"

Glenn tried to mask his panic with concern.

"I saw the bridal bouquet in Adeline's hands. It consists of ten thousand roses—the very same roses you yourself have personally trimmed."

"It's my client's request! This wedding is my studio's biggest commission! I'm the studio director, so I must do everything on my own!" Glenn refuted instantly, his cadence twice as fast as usual.

"Your client's request, huh?" I sneered. "Adeline was very clear in her social media feed that you told her how delicate her skin was, and that you only preserved the softest petals for her.

"Glenn Winchester, the stems that you've given me are completely riddled with nicks that are caused by your pruning shears."

Glenn clamped up immediately. His Adam's Apple bobbed slightly, and he took a step backward so that he could recline against the kitchen island. He patted his pockets, hoping to locate a pack of cigarettes, but he could never find it.

This was the series of actions Glenn was prone to carrying out whenever he needed to cover up his unease and guilt.

"It's been three years." I looked him in the eye. "You've been bringing me waste that you produced every month just so you could protect Adeline's hands."

"It's called recycling!" Glenn's tone escalated. This time, it was tinged with a strong hint of fury and humiliation at being backed into a corner.

"You're allergic to pollen, dammit! You can't come into contact with flowers at all! It's both a recycling incentive and a nice way for you to enjoy a little of the festive spirit! What's wrong with me doing that?

"I'll have you know that I put in quite a lot of effort into picking out the nice-looking stems! Since you keep viewing them as trash, I don't think I can change your mind at all!"

Glenn used that tactic again. Whenever he couldn't win against me in an argument, he'd chalk the problem up to my way of thinking.

I got up to my feet and walked over to the trash can. Then, I lifted the straps of the plastic bag so that I could tie it into a knot.

"Don't throw them away!" Glenn cried out anxiously as he reached out in an attempt to stop me.

"Do you have any idea how much midnight oil I've burned for the sake of this wedding? As soon as the wedding was over, I headed over to the bakery and lined up just to buy you your favorite chestnut cake! Can you please stop trying to pick a fight with me right now?"

I stared at the cake box that had the bakery's logo printed on it, feeling utterly baffled and ridiculous.

"I don't eat chestnuts. I get a little bloated whenever I eat them."

Glenn was thunderstruck when he heard my response. His outstretched hand was left hovering in mid-air.

"Adeline is the one who loves chestnut cake," I continued flatly.

Silence rippled through the air for a long time. I remained rooted to the spot so long that my throat began to constrict from the roses' fragrance.

"You're not feeling well today. Let's take a break to calm down."

Having retracted his hand, Glenn turned and walked toward his study, his expression ashen.

As soon as the door was shut behind him, I picked up the cake box and the trash bag filled with stems. Then, I tossed them onto the corridor outside my front door.