On Valentine's Day, He Dyed Roses Red With My Blood

A typhoon struck out of nowhere on Valentine's Day.

Trying to protect the things in my flower shop, I had the bad luck of getting cut by broken glass and ended up trapped in a corner with no way out.

I begged my boyfriend to help me, but all he did was grab a bunch of red roses soaked in my blood, saying he wanted to give them to his childhood sweetheart.

"Phoebe's been nagging me all day, insisting on the reddest, brightest roses so she can take pictures for her feed. I think these are perfect!"

I cried out, begging him to save me first.

But he didn't even turn his head. He walked off without a care in the world.

"It's fine, the fire department will be here to rescue you soon. Millie, I know how independent you are! I'm in a hurry, so I'm heading out."

That very night, his childhood sweetheart posted on her feed, showing off that bouquet of red roses soaked in my blood, announcing the arrival of their twenty-fourth year together.

I was worn out, so I asked to break upand then he was the one full of regret.

......

The typhoon was still raging.

The whole greenhouse creaked and rattled in the wind.

And Mortimer Simmons walked off with that bouquet of bloody roses, not looking back once.

I kept calling him, but he wouldn't pick up a single time, and he ignored my messages too, as if he'd vanished completely from my world.

The table the typhoon had knocked over was heavy and hard to shift. Not only had it scraped my foot, it had jammed against the wall to form a dead corner.

I was trapped in that corner with no way out, my wound still oozing blood, staining the lilies that had fallen to the floor a deep red.

But Mortimer couldn't have cared less. He didn't even put in any efforthe just said he couldn't move the table, there was nothing he could do.

In pain and terrified, all I could do was pinch myself hard to snap out of it, and I immediately dialed 911 again.

The ambulance couldn't get there in time, and the fire department was slammed on this special day too, so there was no way they could reach me right away.

I did what they'd taught me, using whatever materials I had within reach to bind the major artery around the wound and stop the bleeding!

Then began a long wait.

Waiting for the typhoon to pass.

Waiting for the disappointment in my heart to pass.

Four hours later, the typhoon slowly died down.

And from the blood loss my mouth was dry and I felt dizzy and weak.

I held myself tight, hoarding the last bar of battery on my phone, and at last the ambulance came to rescue me!

After that I slipped into unconsciousness. I don't know how long I slept, only that in that hazy sleep I felt a tugging pain, like needle and thread pulling at my body.

When I opened my eyes again, my best friend Yolanda was already at my bedside, and she'd spent the whole night dabbing water on my lips with a wet cotton swab.

"Oh my God, Millie, you're finally awake! You scared me half to death. I'm so glad you're okay. Looks like my wish worked."

"What did you wish for?"

"I wished I wouldn't win a single hand of mahjong all year, and then you woke up not long after. If I'd known it would work this well, I'd have wished sooner!"

Yolanda made me laugh. When I touched my forehead and saw the time on my watch, I realized I'd been out for a full day and night.

My left leg was injured, I'd lost a lot of blood, and the wound had been exposed too long. When they brought me in, I got eight stitches, and after the surgery I ran a fever and passed out from an infection.

And in that whole day and night, Mortimer never once showed up.

Yolanda couldn't help complaining, muttering curses about Mortimer under her breath.

"What has Mortimer even been doing? He won't answer my calls or reply to my messages, and he hasn't reached out to you at all, you know that? You even made the front-page news."

"All your family and friends saw you were hurt, and they even came to visit while you had the fever, but Mortimer was nowhere to be found."

I gave a little smile and said nothing. I quietly opened my phone and pulled up my feed.

Knowing Mortimer's childhood sweetheart the way I did, I was certain she'd post on her feedand not just once. She'd deliberately post extra, for me to see.

Sure enough.

A few scrolls down, and Phoebe Gray's posts popped up.

Very showy words, very vivid pictures, and someone I knew very well.

"So happy! Twenty-four years old, with youfun, companionship, and a whole life ahead!"

Below were three photos: her and Mortimer getting tattoos together, traveling together, going to a concert together.

"Wow! That's infuriating! You're his girlfriend, you're already engaged, and you're getting married soon! And he's off traveling with another woman, celebrating her birthday, taking her to a concert?"

Yolanda was so mad her two little pigtails looked ready to stand straight up, and it made me laugh all over again.

"You can still laugh? Millie, you've got some nerve staying this calm!"

After going through that near-death despair, I'd already seen it all clearly.

I didn't hold out any hope anymore.

"Yolanda, I don't want to marry him anymore. I want to break up with him! Do me a favor and put my flower shop up for transfer, would you?"

Yolanda froze, and seeing how serious I looked, she didn't dare say anything, just backed my decision all the way.

The next day the flower shop was listed, and plenty of people called to inquire.

I'd put a lot of effort into snagging that shop. Great location, heavy foot traffic, and the rent was very reasonable, so it was highly sought after.

I picked a suitable buyer from the callers, signed the transfer paperwork in a flash, and sold off the remaining stock in the store too.

Once everything was settled, it had only taken three days in all, yet it felt like ages had passed.

Mortimer still hadn't come back, hadn't sent me a single message or made a single call, but I still found out about him another way.

"Millie, look, Mortimer and Phoebe are all over the internet!"

Yolanda handed me her phone. The internet was full of video clips of him and Phoebe, and people were calling them "the most romantic lovers."

Videos and pictures were flying everywhere, all of him kneeling to propose to Phoebe, who was wearing a wedding dress, at the concert.

The big screen cut to them and gave them a full minute, capturing their proposal, their embrace, their kiss, their tears.

Under the comments, netizens with inside knowledge were explaining things too.

"Wow, this guy is handsome and rich! Don't tell me some people don't know that one minute of screen time costs extra?"

"Right, right, normal interaction at a concert only lasts three to five seconds. A full minute means you have to pay extra. I heard it's a thousand dollars a second."

"So that means this one minute cost six thousand dollars? This man is way too romantic. He let everyone witness how sincere he is."

...

The envious comments almost left me in a daze.

I thought back to when Mortimer proposed to me. All he used was a pull tab from a soda can.

I complained that he was too cheap, but he said love couldn't be measured in money, and that someday he'd swap that pull tab out for a diamond.

Now, comparing the two, I finally understood that I was simply worthless in his eyes.

Because Mortimer and Phoebe were both good-looking and kept their own personal accounts, they'd posted a lot of videos and photos about being childhood friends.

Netizens were all shipping them, calling them "the most romantic lovers" and wishing them a lifetime of happiness. They even said that if some naive, sweet little airhead dropped in and got between them, they'd be the first to object.

And I was the unluckiest one, that naive, sweet little airhead who dropped in.

So I didn't want to stay a fool any longer. I immediately sent a breakup message to Mortimer on every one of his social apps.

Finally, Mortimer replied.

Mortimer, who'd been gone for over a week, came back and brought me some merchandise and streamers he'd picked up outside the concert to smooth things over with me.

"Here, Millie, don't you like this singer too? I made a point of bringing back some concert stuff for you to use in your scrapbook."

The things were crumpled and shabby, shoved in front of me, as unpresentable as his sincerity.

"Thanks. Just toss it in the trash!"

I ignored him and had no intention of inviting him in, but he shoved the door open and forced his way inside, accidentally knocking into my wound. It hurt so much my eyes nearly welled up.

Only then did he notice I was injured, and remembering the typhoon that day, he hurried to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, Millie. I didn't know you were hurt this badly. You sounded pretty upbeat on the phone the other day, so I thought you were fine!"

"Lucky me, still alive! By the way, did Phoebe like that bouquet of red roses soaked in my blood?"

Mortimer went still for a moment and was about to explain, but I cut him off with a few words.

"She must have liked them, right? After all, they were red roses from you. I even saw Phoebe post something on her feed saying she loves you!"

It was only from my tone that Mortimer realized I was angry.

He was so full of himself that he figured nothing he'd done could possibly make me angry, and he even blamed me for throwing another tantrum.

"Okay, Millie, stop talking in that snide tone. You know how Phoebe and I are. Ours is the purest kind of guy-girl friendship. We grew up together. If there were ever going to be feelings, they'd have been there long ago, right?"

"I know you can understand that, so don't be mad! I didn't get a chance to reach out this time because I was celebrating Phoebe's birthday."

I nodded, and as I talked to him I started clearing out all the worthless little trinkets he'd given me over the years.

I bagged every last one of them in a trash bag and set it by the door for Mortimer to take with him later.

Then I cast the video of their proposal at the concert onto the TV so he could relive it for himself.

"Is this something I'm not allowed to be angry about either?"

"What's there to be angry about? That was for Phoebe's birthday too, to set up a personal account for her."

"You spent six thousand dollars in one minute? To make everyone think the two of you are a couple? So if we got married, would that make me the mistress?"

"Come on! As long as we know the truth, that's all that matters. Who cares what outsiders say! I was just helping Phoebe shoot videos for her account, that's all."

Round and round, Mortimer only ever had this one excuse.

I was sick of hearing it.

"So if we got married, you'd still help Phoebe film childhood-sweetheart videos? Aren't you afraid people online will dig up that you're married?"

"What's there to be so afraid of! Just do it, that's all. Phoebe isn't afraid, so what are you afraid of?"

He frowned, impatient, clearly done talking to me.

I had no desire left to talk to him either, so I just showed him out without trying to make him stay.

"Take your stuff and go! Don't come looking for me again. We're through."

"What do you mean, through? Millie Mann! We're about to get married. Both sets of parents have already met, the date is set, and you break up just like that? Do you treat marriage like a joke? Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you?"

I gave a cold laugh and threw his own words back at him.

"Phoebe isn't afraid, so what am I afraid of?"

Bang

I slammed the door shut and decisively deleted everything about him.

Mortimer didn't hesitate either. He turned and left.

I immediately told my parents the engagement was canceled, the marriage was off, and there'd be no wedding.

That same night, Mortimer's parents called to ask what on earth had happened between us.

After hearing the whole story and learning I was jealous of Phoebe, they both gave a scornful laugh, not taking my feelings seriously in the slightest.

"Oh, come on, Millie. You can't blame us for saying sothis is your fault! Phoebe is family, she's Mortimer's little sister. Why on earth are you jealous of her?"

"Exactly! The two of them grew up practically in each other's arms. If they were going to have feelings for each other, they'd have had them long ago, wouldn't they? Would they really wait until you and Mortimer started dating to develop feelings? Stop overthinking itthere's no reason to be jealous over this!"

"You two breaking up and calling off the engagement over something like thispeople will laugh when word gets out. This shouldn't be happening! They're just being playful. They're young. They'll settle down once they're married. Once you give Mortimer a child, he'll naturally mature."

I really did laugh, furious, and shot right back at them.

"He'll mature just because I have a child with Mortimer Simmons? Is a child some kind of ripening agent? Are you two out of your minds?"

Three merciless comebacks in a rowa declaration that I was done keeping up appearances entirely.

When Mortimer's parents heard that, they flew into a rage, took it as license to climb all over me, and laid into me all over again.

"Oh my! Millie Mann, you have no respect for your elders! Do you have any upbringing at all? Your parents raised you all these years and never taught you the least bit of sense? No matter what, we're still your eldershow can you speak to us like this?"

"This is absolutely lawless! Did Mortimer spoil you into acting like this? I'm calling Mortimer right now, and I'll make him see exactly what kind of woman he's found!"

Mortimer's mother wailed as she made the call. Before she'd even hung up on her end, the line connected to Mortimer.

Then I heard her sobbing and howling like someone had died in the family, grieving as if there'd been a deathall she was missing was a horn player to back her up.

"Oh God, my life is so wretched! Mortimer, come home right now! Come listen, come see for yourselfwhat kind of woman have you found? She talks back, she defies her elders, she's utterly unforgivable!"

"Ha."

I gave a cold laugh and offered a compliment into the phone.

"Quite the vocabulary. You must have done plenty of wailing at funerals."

With that I hung up, blocked their entire family, ignored all of them, and made a point of telling my parents not to answer any calls from them.

Three days later, Mortimer, unable to let it go, showed up at my door, an indignant Phoebe Gray at his side.

"Millie Mann! You've gone too far! Do you have any idea you made my mother so angry she ended up in the hospital? You haven't apologized once, haven't visited her even one time? When did you turn this cold-blooded?"

Phoebe, emboldened by his backing, jabbed a finger at me and let loose.

"Millie Mann, you have no conscience! His parents treated you so well, and this is how you treat them? Aren't you afraid of what's coming to you?"

"What's coming to me?"

Phoebe actually made me laugh.

"What exactly is coming to me? The ones in this world who really have something coming are those disgusting men and women who hide behind 'childhood sweethearts' and 'pure friendship' while carrying on something murky and sneaking around behind everyone's back!"

"And when someone catches on to their little schemes, they turn right around and accuse that person of being petty and small-minded, all while playing the pure, saintly innocent online, marketing a fake image and fooling their followers."

I let it all out in one burst, throwing back the whole bellyful of insults Phoebe had loaded up to spit at meand drove her straight to tears.

"How can you say that about me?!"

She burst into tears and buried her face in Mortimer's chest, pressing tightly against him.

"Mortimer, your girlfriend actually says that about me? We've been childhood sweethearts! We've known each other for twenty-four years. Even after you get engaged and married to her, we'll still be childhood sweethearts!"

"You're right, I know. It's not your faultshe's just being petty."

Mortimer shot me a vicious glare and pulled Phoebe in even tighter.

He looked like he wanted to tear my flesh and drink my blood, and he flatly demanded that I apologize to Phoebe.

"Millie Mann, don't forget your place! I can swap out girlfriends anytime, but there's only one Phoebe! She and I grew up togethershe can do whatever she likes, and you don't get to talk about her like that! Apologize to Phoebe right now!"

"Apologize? Fine. I'll apologize to you both on my live stream. That'll seem more serious."

"Live stream?"

Phoebe went pale with fright and clapped her hands over her face, letting out a sharp, ringing shriek.

"You're live streaming?!"