Chapter 2

Stephen was my senior in college and also the president of our tennis club. That night, he suddenly appeared at the club entrance with an enormous bouquet of deep red roses, blocking my way. His eyes were cast downward, with tousled hair covering them. I still remember him saying, "Rosalie, let's give it a try." I agreed because I'd liked him for a long time. My roommate called me a fool, saying Stephen was just playing around. But to me back then, Stephen was like a light I had chased endlessly, yearning for it to one day shine So we got together. Yet, almost no one believed in us, and nobody offered us their blessings.

on me.

Ding- My thoughts were interrupted as I noticed Stephen just walking through the door, holding another bouquet of pink roses. It was his routine, bringing home a bouquet of roses every day-not for me, but to place in a pure white vase. I went over and reached out to take his coat. Stephen's gaze shifted to the now-cold dinner on the table and the extinguished candles. Then he looked at me, his eyes filled with apology. "I'm so sorry, Rosalie. I can't believe I forgot such an important day. I'm really sorry!" He spoke as he pulled me into a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I patted him lightly and said, "It's alright. We're an old married couple by now; it doesn't matter." He studied me, as if confirming I truly wasn't upset. I gave him a small smile, playfully nudging him, and told him to make me dinner again.

He smiled faintly and agreed, then began tidying up. He was always this gentle - gentle enough that I almost forgot I was merely a tool he used to get back at Ophelia.

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