Evening Breeze Tales
I can see flowers blossoming around a person when they fall in love. The stronger their love, the more beautiful the flowers.
When Ann Liston proposed to me when I was 22, 99 white camellias had blossomed around my feet, stretching down the whole street.
Seven years later, the flowers began to wither.
Even so, she insisted that love always fades anyway, whereas companionship and responsibility were far more precious.
That was why she no longer sneaked kisses when I'm asleep, but still came home punctually every day.
That was why she no longer prepared surprises for me, but added my name into every estate.
Even if work was busy, she'd spare a whole day for me every month.
I was convinced that this was the ideal form of marriage too.
Until three months ago, when she was caught in an avalanche in the mountains.
It was the rescue team medic Martin Irwin who dug through layers of snow to reach her, carrying her down the mountains on his back when she was barely breathing.
Once she made a full recovery, she spent $3,000,000 setting up a fund for rescuers, claiming that it was to repay her life debt to Martin.
I never thought much of it…until our seventh wedding anniversary.
We were once again in the restaurant where we had our first date on our anniversary. Halfway through it, Martin came to our table.
Dressed casually, he smiled, "What a coincidence, Ms. Liston."
Ann stood up, politely shaking his hand with a calm expression and demure mannerisms.
In a split second, countless roses bloomed wildly around her feet, covering every inch of the restaurant. They were so much more radiant than the white camellias that had bloomed for me.