What Blooms From Burned Love

Five years back, Suri Somerset wrecked her uterus pushing Bruce Jerkinson out of a car's path—doctors said kids were off the table after that.

Bruce didn't blink. He married her anyway.

Right after the wedding, he went all in. She mentioned liking roses once—dude planted an entire field for her, by hand.

At auctions? If she looked twice at something, his paddle was up.

Every anniversary, he'd dive into the ocean, grab a shell, and carve their names into it.

Now it was year five. Four shells already lined her nightstand.

Suri only found out about the other woman—and the fact she was over three months pregnant—when one of Bruce's rivals blasted the scandal online.

That night, Bruce dropped to his knees, slapped himself like a maniac, and sobbed, saying he'd been drunk and thought the woman was her.

"Suri, please. I'll fix it. I won't let her keep the baby..."

She swallowed the heartbreak and forgave him.

On their fifth anniversary, Bruce told Suri he had something to take care of and to head to the hotel first.

She rushed to Hotel Vantelle in Riverbourne—only to catch a gut-punch of a scene.

In the next room, lit with candles like some twisted romance flick, Bruce, his parents—Harrison and Yolanda—and a very pregnant girl were all grinning, singing "Happy Birthday."

"Julie, happy birthday," Bruce said, hugging her and kissing her forehead. "I know today's been rough, but once the baby's here, I'll bring you home."

Julie smiled like butter wouldn't melt. "It's okay. Your wife's been through a lot—you don't wanna upset her."

"Bruce, it's time. Suri's probably already here. Shouldn't we head over?"

"Yeah. If she finds us now, it's game over. Baby's eight months along—we've come too far."

Suri froze, heart racing. Her face went pale.

Even Bruce's friends were there, laughing like it was some kind of celebration.

"Relax," Harrison said. "It's not like she can have kids. Now that we finally got a grandson coming, if she acts up, I won't let it slide."

Yolanda stroked Julie's belly, all soft-voiced. "Julie's in her last trimester. Could pop anytime. Bruce, you need to get her home. Just say she's your cousin. No one saw her face in that post. Suri won't know."

Bruce nodded. "Got it. Once the baby's born, there's nothing she can do."

That look in his eyes? Ice cold. Suri's stomach flipped.

Five years. Five whole years of lies. How had she ever believed him?

Harrison, Yolanda, his friends—they all knew.

They all played along.

"Oh, and don't forget this," Julie said, handing him a seashell. "Fifth anniversary. Keep pretending. It's fake, but make it look good."

Bruce took the shell and laced his fingers with Julie's. "You always cover my back. I almost forgot."

Julie lit up. "Baby's not here yet. You still gotta play the perfect husband."

His friends cracked up.

"Bet Suri still thinks you swam out for those shells every year. Only the first one was real, right?"

"Five bucks for a fake shell instead of a gift? Bruce, you're a legend."

Suri's shoulders shook. Her heart crumpled.

Even the seashells were fake.

So what had ever been real?

Her mind blanked. Her knees gave out. She almost hit the floor.