Romans & histoires A Half Built Garden

To dream of. Mrs Haughter was outside her little detached bungalow, holding a massive garden fork as she worked on her garden. The garden was at both the right and left part of her compound and I had to say, her house was pretty but seemed to have been structured by a five-year old. The garden occupied more than 60% of the compound's space and her little bungalow stood in the middle, leaving the compound no space for garage or any other thing that made a house a home. “Oh, Lucas,” she turned to George slowly, “seems you brought company.”

“That’s either deep thinking or heartbreak.” I forced a small smile. “Probably both.” He didn’t push. That was the thing about Matthew. He never pushed. I looked back at the small stretch of land behind us—the beginning of what I now called my sanctuary. What started as a random idea had slowly turned into something real. A beachside garden. Rows of hibiscus, plumeria, and young vegetable patches were beginning to take shape. It wasn’t perfect yet, but it was mine. Something I built with my own hands. Something that didn’t belong to Adrian’s world of contracts and boardrooms.

With her stomach all tied up in knots, she prayed she didn’t embarrass herself or disgust him with her bad table manners. “Come on, this way.” He waved to her to follow him, and she did. They took a back set of stairs that took them out into a garden like space with a partial fence, making it a little private from the rest of the back area. It wasn’t a lawn but more like a cleared space in the back of the building. All the plants looked newly planted, but you could still see the wild at the edge of the open area, ready to encroach back toward the back of the packhouse.

If ever there is more to it, I don’t care about it for now. I sit beside our glass wall and watch the people entering the garden in our backyard. To make it more spacious, I bought the adjacent lot and had it developed as a garden extension. The landscapes are well-crafted and the ornamental plants are well-trimmed. It looks like a mini paradise in the comfort of our home. “Love, you ready?” Zed suddenly speaks from behind me before I feel his hand on my shoulders.

Why wasn't Liam aware of the garden? But he was rarely home. Ever since he married Haley, he lost interest in frequenting the Villa. “Take me there.” At his command, the maid led him to the garden. It stood behind the large building. An enormous greenhouse housing a variety of vegetables. There was a fruit section too, and everything looked fresh and organic. Did Haley plant all these? “Mrs. Nash and I used to hang out here,” The maid said. “I would help her pick the vegetables, but she does all the work.”

They were building something beautiful together, not just a garden, but a life filled with love, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings. Later that day, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, Claire, Lillian, and Samuel set to work preparing the garden for the coming season. They raked the soil, pulled up the last of the winter weeds, and planned where each row of vegetables and flowers would go. The children’s laughter echoed through the yard, mixing with the songs of the birds that had begun to return, signaling the approach of spring.

“Want one?” The vendor laughed, then nodded. “My daughter uses them in school.” She handed one over. “Clause Ten’s her favorite,” he added. “About rest as essential rhythm.” “She has taste,” Lia grinned. --- 1:34 PM — Southbank Garden The garden wasn't big—merely a wedge of earth reclaimed between two low structures. The soil was clay-laden, but careful tending had caused it to produce: gabi, kamote, climbing string beans on reused trellises. A hand-lettered sign protruded between two tomato vines: