Scattered When the Bellflowers Bloom

Five years after I faked my death and had plastic surgery, Julian Alastair suddenly walked into my flower shop.

"A bouquet of White Bellflowers. Please wrap them carefully. My wife was always particular about these things when she was alive."

My hand froze. It was only then that I suddenly remembered—today was the anniversary of my death.

White Bellflowers symbolize hopeless love.

He used to hate these kinds of plain, colorless flowers.

He even mocked me during an argument once, saying I was as boring as these flowers, not at all as lively and adorable as Yara Sterling.

And now, he was using White Bellflowers to mourn me.

Just as he was about to leave, Adrian suddenly came out from the back.

"Mom, time to eat."

Julian Alastair's gaze fell on the little face that bore a striking resemblance to his own, and his pupils constricted.

Yara Sterling's threats from five years ago were still vivid in my memory. I instinctively pulled my son behind me.

"This child was born without a father. He's timid, so please don't frighten him, sir."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

'After all, the Julian Alastair who lived in my heart had died long ago.'

1

Julian Alastair clearly didn't believe me. His gaze was full of scrutiny.

I instinctively lowered my head to avoid his gaze.

Seeing my reflection on my phone screen, I remembered I looked completely different now.

'He can't possibly recognize me.'

'But Adrian…'

Ignoring my attempts to stop him, Julian Alastair squatted down, took Adrian's small hand, and asked urgently,

"Little one, how old are you?"

I yanked my son back behind me, forcing a smile.

"He's my son with my late husband. He was unlucky; his father died just a few days after he was born."

Julian Alastair froze, his expression an unreadable mix of disappointment and denial.

Just as he was about to press further, the shop door was pushed open.

"Julian, what's taking you so long to buy a bouquet?"

Yara Sterling walked in and affectionately linked her arm with Julian Alastair's.

When she got a clear look at my face, her expression changed dramatically.

'Yara Sterling knows what I look like after the surgery.'

Thinking of her every threat from five years ago, my heart skipped a beat.

Julian Alastair didn't notice anything amiss, but he did take an almost imperceptible half-step back.

He put some distance between us and naturally wrapped his arm around Yara Sterling, though his gaze remained fixed on Adrian.

"It's windy outside. Why didn't you wait for me in the car?"

"I couldn't wait. I wanted to go have a talk with my sister soon," she pouted. "Even though today is the anniversary of her death, it's also the last day of our five-year promise."

Yara Sterling tilted her head up, her eyes glistening, but I could clearly hear the triumphant gloating in her tone.

"You promised me back then that once five years had passed since my sister's death, you would marry me... You haven't forgotten, have you? Besides, we've been intimate for these past five years."

She casually yet deliberately caressed her lower abdomen, her face a mask of shyness.

"All the elite circles in Port Caelus are waiting for our wedding. Not to mention, this little one in my belly can't wait much longer either."

I was a little surprised. 'Five years, and they still haven't gotten married?'

The air grew tense with a subtle awkwardness.

The silence stretched until Yara Sterling's expression began to falter. Only then did Julian Alastair speak, his voice hoarse.

"I haven't forgotten."

He pulled out two hundred-dollar bills and placed them on the counter.

"I'm sorry, I lost my composure just now. Keep the change. Your bellflowers are beautiful."

"My wi... my ex-wife would have liked them."

After speaking, Julian Alastair picked up the flowers and led Yara Sterling out.

My eyes fell unconsciously on his thumb.

When we held hands, he always liked to gently stroke the back of my hand.

It was a light, soft touch, but every time, it would make my heart race, and I would laugh and playfully tell him how ticklish it was.

'Julian Alastair, do you do these little things when you hold hands with Yara Sterling, too?'

Just as they pushed the door open, Yara Sterling suddenly turned her head back.

She glared at me, her eyes full of warning, then shot a meaningful, sharp glance at Adrian.

The shop door closed, and silence returned to the room.

I sank into the chair as if all my strength had left me, pulling Adrian into a tight hug.

Looking at the bills on the counter, a bitter smile tugged at my lips.

I understood her meaning. It was time for me to move to another city.

2

After I gently patted Adrian's back and coaxed him to sleep, my thoughts drifted back to six years ago.

Back then, I was the brightest star in Port Caelus's high society.

Mom and Dad doted on me, letting me follow my passion and become a model.

I reveled in the spotlight, loved showing off my beauty and confidence to the world.

Back then, everything in my life was going perfectly. My biggest worry was what carat diamond to buy and which designer's wedding dress to wear for my marriage to Julian Alastair.

Until one day, Mom and Dad, their eyes red-rimmed, led a thin, dark-skinned girl to me.

"Silvia, this is your sister. She's also... Mom and Dad's biological daughter."

I took her hand and gave her all the prettiest dresses from my walk-in closet.

"Yara, from now on, we're true sisters. What's mine is yours."

I genuinely felt indebted to her and wanted to make up for the past two decades.

I took her everywhere I went, shared everything I had with her, and everyone said we were as close as blood sisters.

Who could have known that "what's mine is yours" would become the prophecy of how I would lose everything.

After Yara Sterling's arrival, the marriage alliance between the Sterling and Alastair families ran into complications.

The Alastair patriarch paid a personal visit, his attitude firm.

"The daughter-in-law of the Alastair Family must be the legitimate heiress of the Sterling Family, and she must hold the absolute inheritance rights to Sterling Corporation!"

Mom and Dad fell silent.

As much as they doted on me, when the immense interests of the family were at stake, I—the outsider with no blood ties—was inevitably placed on the lighter end of the scales.

That night, I hid in my room and cried secretly.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the window.

Julian Alastair stood in the garden below my balcony. His white shirt was smudged with dirt, but it couldn't hide his youthful ardor.

"Silvia, don't be afraid."

He kissed away my tears, holding me with a force that felt like he wanted to meld me into his very being.

"I don't give a damn about some marriage alliance. Even if I have to give up my position as the Alastair heir, the only person I will ever marry is you, Silvia Sterling."

The wind was cool that night.

But my tears were scalding, and his kiss and his promise were just as fervent.

Nurtured by the Sterling family's lifestyle, Yara Sterling slowly shed her rustic awkwardness and began to blossom.

At some point, the coldness and resistance in Julian Alastair's gaze whenever he looked at Yara Sterling disappeared.

Once, while I was teaching Yara Sterling about skincare, he made an offhand joke:

"Don't go and spoil her. She's actually quite cute without any makeup on."

We both froze the moment he said it.

And that was just the beginning.

Julian Alastair had always been an extremely territorial person.

Once, I accidentally used his glass. He didn't get mad, but he never touched that glass again.

But one time, while we were watching a movie, Yara complained she was thirsty, picked up Julian Alastair's Coke, and took a sip.

He froze for a moment. But instead of throwing it away, he simply picked it up and nonchalantly continued to drink.

The Julian Alastair I used to know wouldn't even eat sliced fruit unless I fed it to him; he was the type who never got his hands dirty.

I treated it as part of our playful dynamic and was happy to oblige.

But at a Sterling family dinner, he calmly put on a pair of gloves, peeled and deveined a shrimp, and carefully placed it in Yara's bowl.

When he met my stunned gaze, he looked away awkwardly and explained in a low voice:

"Yara had it rough in the countryside; she's never even had shrimp before. I just feel sorry for her and wanted to look out for her."

"Silvia, you've always been a generous and kind girl. You're not going to get jealous of your own sister, are you?"

His casual words about being "generous and kind" crushed me like a mountain, suffocating all the grievances I wanted to voice.

I kept trying to convince myself, telling myself that Julian Alastair was just acting out of pity.

Until that day, when I ended my photoshoot abroad early to rush back and celebrate Julian Alastair's birthday.

The moment I got home and pushed open the door, the first thing I saw was a trail of clothes scattered from the foyer all the way to the bedroom.

The man's designer shirt—I had given it to Julian Alastair.

The woman's silk slip—Yara had said it was pretty when we were out shopping, and Julian Alastair had swiped his card to buy it for her.

My vision swam. A thousand possibilities flashed through my mind, yet I tried to tell myself not to jump to conclusions.

I stumbled into the bedroom, trembling. In an instant, all my self-delusions were shattered by the sight of the two tangled bodies on the bed.