Roses are No Longer Romantic

Upon hearing my words, Evelyn’s face froze, her expression immediately turning icy as her eyes narrowed, preparing to lash out at me.

"Vincent Roswell, what right do you have to talk to me like that? Don’t forget, you’re living in my house now. I’m the one supporting you financially..."

As she spoke, I felt the familiar anger rising in me, fueled by the memories of our seven-year relationship flashing through my mind. Throughout that time, I had been the one shouldering most of the financial burden.

Even after I resigned from my job because she insisted, I used up all my savings just to keep things afloat.

Unfortunately, before I could respond, the oven made a loud ding, pulling me back to reality.

I glanced at Evelyn, who was still standing there, glaring at me, but I was too exhausted to continue the argument. Instead, I walked away, slipping on my kitchen gloves and pulling the cake out of the oven.

Evelyn watched me, her frown deepening, but then her expression softened slightly.

"Today... is your birthday?" she asked.

Yes, it was my thirtieth birthday.

But even more than that, it was the anniversary of seven years with Evelyn.

I had spent the entire day preparing and baking this cake from scratch with the hope that we would celebrate together after she came home from work.

Seeing the realization dawn on her face, Evelyn hesitated, her guilt visible in the way her brows furrowed. In an attempt to make amends, she grabbed a candle and stuck it into the cake.

"I've been too busy with work recently, but I'll make it up to you. This afternoon, I’ll take you to choose a new engagement ring. I’ll get you a much more expensive one this time."

She sat down across from me, slipping back into her usual calm and polished demeanor.

"Vince, there’s no need to be jealous of Simon. Yes, we had a relationship when we were young, but that was years ago. We’ve both moved on."

Had she really moved on, though?

I stayed quiet, recalling a memory that was still fresh in my mind. Not long ago, when I was with Evelyn, I brought her lunch to work. On my way up, I overheard her chatting with her friends. They were teasing her, asking why she was with someone like me.

I could still hear her voice. "If it’s not Simon, I don’t really care who it is."

At that time, I was young and full of hope, believing that sincerity and dedication could conquer anything, even someone’s feelings. Looking back now, I realize how naive I had been. Every step I took was a misstep, leading me further into a life where I did not belong.

I needed to get out before everything, before I was entirely lost.

"No, go ahead and do whatever you like, I'll handle things on my own," I said calmly.

Evelyn paused, seemingly taken aback by my sudden detachment.

However, years of watching me swallow my pride had conditioned her to expect nothing but submission. She assumed, like always, that I had chosen to forgive her yet again. So, with a smile, she moved forward and lit the candle on the cake.

"Hurry up and make a good wish."

In past years, my wishes had always been the same. It would be simple hopes for love and happiness with Evelyn, for our relationship to last.

But not this time.

This time, a silent wish echoed in my head.

"I want to be happy... and I want to leave Evelyn Hartwell forever."

After making my wish, I opened my eyes, ready to blow out the candles. But when I looked around, Evelyn had already disappeared. She was nowhere to be found.

The cake I had spent hours making, the cake I had poured my heart into, was knocked over, lying in a heap on the floor. In her rush to leave, Evelyn had carelessly tipped it over and had not even bothered to close the door behind her.

I got up, grabbed a mop and started cleaning the mess she had left behind.

Almost immediately, a new post from Simon appeared in my feed.

[You are such a clumsy fool, Simon Redford. How did I manage to knock over the cabinets just by walking?! Sigh…Luckily, my knight in shining armor rushed over to save me right away.]

And there, in the comments below, was Evelyn. She, the woman who could not be bothered to check on me after my car accident, had taken the time to respond to him.

[Every time you need me, I'll always be there for you.]

In a daze, I hit the love button on her comment.

A message from Evelyn popped up not long after.

[Simon hurt his foot. I’m taking him to the hospital right now. You go over and clean up his place for him.]

[After that, make him some chicken soup and bring it to the hospital. Don’t forget, no cilantro this time.]

It hit me then, all at once.

Evelyn did not have any food allergies or particular dislikes, not really. Still, every time I added cilantro to her food, she would scold me harshly, calling me useless and berating me for never getting things right.

It turned out that it was not about her at all. It was about Simon Redford.

I had originally planned to ignore Evelyn's message, to simply turn off my phone and leave her demands unanswered. But after a moment of hesitation, I found myself heading downstairs anyway.

When I arrived, Evelyn was holding onto Simon, her voice low and soothing, comforting him in the way she never did for me. As soon as she saw me, her expression hardened.

"Why are you just getting here?" she snapped.

"If Simon's treatment gets delayed and bad things happen to him, it’s your fault!"

Before she could continue, Simon gently tugged at her sleeve.

"Evelyn, it's alright. Don’t get upset with Vincent because of me. I know he has never liked me."

"Okay, Vincent, clean up this place. I will not marry a man who spends all day being jealous and can’t even manage to do anything right."

And with that, she helped Simon out of the room, her back to me as she disappeared from sight.

I looked at her retreating as I whispered quietly, almost to myself, "I will not marry a woman who cheats and has no shame."

Once they were gone, I looked around the room.

The bathroom was a mess and water splashed everywhere, which was evidence of their time together. In the trash can, two used condoms.

The sight made my stomach turn, nausea rising as I stood frozen in place.

No wonder Evelyn had been "working overtime" so often recently.

It was not work that kept her out late. It was this. Every day, she had been coming downstairs to spend intimate time with Simon, then climbing back up to our home like nothing had happened.

I glanced around Simon's bedroom again.

My gaze landed on the rows of luxury accessories and shelves filled with limited-edition sneakers.

Just a few days ago, I had asked Evelyn for a pair of sneakers as a birthday gift. However, her response had cut deep, as if even my request had disgusted her.

"How can you celebrate your thirtieth birthday? You’re too old to be acting like a kid. Isn’t it pathetic?"

"You don’t need expensive shoes to do housework. And anyway, no matter how pricey your sneakers are, they won’t make you twenty again!"

Her words stung. It was true. I could not stay twenty forever.

Evelyn, however, had no shortage of twenty-year-olds around her and it seemed her favorite among them was Simon Redford, her so-called assistant.

I took a deep breath and began taking photos of everything in the room, documenting the mess and all the signs of betrayal.

Then, without another word, I headed back upstairs and started packing my things.

I realized, as I gathered my belongings, that it was not as if Evelyn had never given me gifts during our seven years together.

She had, in her own way. Fancy kitchenware, a fancy sweeping robot, a high-end washing machine, even a kitchen knife handcrafted by some so-called expert.

Now, I was leaving it all behind.

Halfway through packing, I paused, a sudden wave of absurdity washing over me. Downstairs, in Simon’s world, there were shelves and closets full of luxurious items, a life of excess that I could never imagine.

But here, in the place I had called home for several years, I realized everything I owned could fit into a single suitcase.

After I finished packing, I picked up the phone and called my close friend, Matthew Landon, who was living overseas. I dialed his number and despite hanging up three times, I finally let the call connect.

I held back the sobs that were threatening to break free. I said, "Matt, I was wrong."

"I should never have given up my job or my life for Evelyn."

"I regret everything. I want to come find you."

There was a pause and then Matthew’s voice came through, saying that I deserved it and calling me a fool before hanging up the phone.

I sat in the empty room, the silence closing in around me, feeling the sadness settle deep inside.

Memories of countless conversations with Matthew flashed through my mind. His advice, his warnings, all the things he had said to me.

He had always looked at me like I was throwing my life away, as if he could not understand why I was making these choices.

And now, as the tears I had been holding back for so long finally began to fall, my phone buzzed with another message.

It was from Matthew. He had bought me the nearest flight out, three days from now, at 12 noon.

At that exact moment, all the emotions I had bottled up for seven years came rushing out at once.

I cried. For myself and for the wasted seven years.