5
Mark pushed open the gate and was stunned.
Vivian was pruning plants. Many uprooted
rose bushes lay scattered, and Vivian was
trimming a jasmine plant.
“Mark, honey, the roses scratched my finger
when I was watering them last time, so I
pulled them out. My sister won’t be angry
when she sees this, will she? I’m sorry, should
I… replant… them?”
For the first time, Mark didn’t respond; he
went straight to his room.
For a moment, Mark’s mind was filled with
images of Sarah tending the garden.
Sarah was inherently bourgeois, a common
trait among rich girls.
The paintings in the house had to be by
く
famous artists; the furniture had to be
designer. Even Mark’s current hobby of
collecting ceramic tea sets was influenced by
Sarah.
All these years, Mark’s business had taken a
toll on his health, and Sarah strictly controlled
the quality of the ingredients, preparing
various nourishing soups for him.
Mark despised this bourgeois lifestyle, yet he
enjoyed the luxurious life it afforded.
“Ouch!” Vivian screamed.
Her finger was indeed pricked by a rose
thorn.
Mark forgot about Sarah and rushed to
attend to Vivian’s injury.
Vivian sat obediently, saying softly, “My sister
hasn’t come back yet? Did we make it too
difficult for her? Maybe I should leave this
house; maybe she’ll come back then.”
“No need to leave. A mistake is a mistake.
く
She needs to apologize. Getting rid of those
roses is good; they won’t hurt you again.”
Mark’s thoughts wandered again.
The roses all over the yard were Sarah’s
treasures. She said she loved roses, their bold
romance, open and unapologetic, just like her
love for him.
He clenched his fists, his anger rising. This
woman dared to ignore him.
Vivian hugged him.
“As long as I can stay with you, Mark, honey,
it doesn’t matter if she apologizes or not.
Even if I have to serve her tea and water, I
wouldn’t mind.”
Mark didn’t hear her.
