The Language of Daisies

Ever since I rescued Arthur from that blazing warehouse fire, my lungs, ravaged by smoke inhalation, had been slowly deteriorating. On Pancake Day, after carefully preparing a batch of delicious pancakes, a sickening sweetness surged in my throat. I just wanted to rest on the lounge chair for a bit, but I never opened my eyes again.

Arthur, who had gone out to buy me some candied nuts, returned, his secretary, Sarah, trailing behind him. Seeing me still on the lounge chair, he reached out for a throw blanket.

Youre not well; dont overexert yourself. Just get some more sleep.

But Sarah, teary-eyed and feigning distress, interjected: Mr. Sterling, Jessie just messaged me, calling me a hussy and telling me to die I should just leave. I dont want to ruin your marriage.

Arthur looked at my closed eyes, the tenderness in his gaze hardening into disgust. Jessie, what exactly is your problem? Sarah just came back to get some files from me. Cant you be more reasonable?

His scolding didnt stop until my body grew cold.

Arthur, I wont cause trouble anymore.

Arthur, frowning, had lectured for a long time. Seeing no reaction from me on the lounge chair, he finally sighed. The harshness in his eyes softened. He knelt, gently placing the bag of candied nuts he had clutched in his arms into my hand.

Dont be angry anymore.

His voice was incredibly soft, as if coaxing a sulking child. I queued for a long time to get these; theyre still warm. This shop is on the south side of town; havent you been talking about it forever? Get up and eat them while theyre hot; they wont taste good cold.

The paper bag of nuts felt warm, but alas, my palm could no longer sense that faint warmth. Arthur, sensing my cold hand, frowned again. He rose to fetch a wool blanket from the bedroom, carefully draping it over me. Tucking the corners, his movements were heartbreakingly practiced.

Having done all this, he turned to the kitchen, the sound of running water filling the air. Im pouring you some warm water to soothe your throat. Arthurs voice drifted from the kitchen, a hint of concern in his tone. After Pancake Day, Ill clear my schedule at the company and take you to a retreat in the south. Its warmer there, and the air is humid. Your cough never seems to get better; resting your lungs there should help. And if you want to see the ocean, well go see the ocean

I floated in mid-air, watching his busy figure in the kitchen, my eyes stinging, yet unable to shed a single tear. Arthur, it was too late.

Standing nearby, Sarah stared at Arthurs busy back, consumed by furious jealousy. She hadnt expected that even with me feigning sleep and ignoring him, Arthur wouldnt get angry. Instead, he was thinking of taking me south.

While Arthurs back was to the living room, Sarah quietly approached the lounge chair. She reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my phone. Sarah tried a few times; my password was Arthurs birthday. She tapped her fingers on the screen a few times, setting a timed text message. Having done all this, she casually slipped my phone into her own bag.

The next second. Ah!

A piercing scream shattered the living rooms tranquility. Sarah abruptly snatched the crystal ashtray from the coffee table and ruthlessly smashed it against her own forehead. Blood instantly gushed out, streaming down her pale cheek.

What happened?! Arthur, holding a glass of warm water, rushed out of the kitchen in a panic. He immediately saw Sarah clutching her bleeding head, collapsed on the floor, weeping uncontrollably.

Mr. Sterling boohoohoo Sarah pointed at my unmoving figure on the lounge chair, sobbing breathlessly. Jessie suddenly threw the ashtray at me! She called me a hussy and told me to get out, or shed kill me!

Arthurs face instantly changed. He strode to the lounge chair, reaching out to grab my arm. Jessie! Are you insane? Sarah is just a young woman; how could you do such a thing?!

Just as his hand was about to touch me, Ding-dong.

Arthurs phone in his pocket rang. Sarah immediately screamed, Mr. Sterling! Look at your phone! Jessie must have sent me a message cursing me! She was just tapping on her phone; she was pretending to be asleep!

Arthurs movements faltered. He pulled out his phone. A line of text abruptly popped up on the screen, the sender clearly labeled Wife.

[If that bitch secretary doesnt leave, Ill die right here and make you regret it for the rest of your life!]

The veins on the back of Arthurs hand, clutching the phone, bulged, his knuckles white. He looked up at me on the lounge chair, the last flicker of warmth in his eyes vanishing, replaced by towering rage.

Fine. Arthur, furious, laughed mirthlessly, his voice cold. Jessie, to drive Sarah away, youre even threatening me with death? Ive been too good to you, havent I? Made you think you can get away with anything, havent I? He raised his hand.

Splash!

The glass of warm water, originally meant to soothe my throat, was thrown directly onto my face. Drops of water slid down my ashen cheeks, wetting my eyelashes and the freshly covered wool blanket. I remained with my eyes closed, unmoving.

Still pretending? Seeing my lack of reaction, the fire in Arthurs heart burned even hotter. He grabbed the still-warm bag of candied nuts from my hand and tossed it into the trash can. Fine, you like playing dead, do you? Then you can put on your act alone here to your hearts content!

Arthur turned around, pulled Sarah up from the floor, not sparing me another glance, his voice filled with disgust. Sarah, lets go! Im taking you to the hospital to get bandaged. Well spend the holiday at the office tonight. Let her go crazy alone here!

The front door slammed shut with a bang, shaking the ceiling light fixture. I floated in mid-air, looking at my wet face and the nuts in the trash can.

Arthur, I wasnt pretending. I was truly dead.

The next day, my body began to change. Faint purplish corpse spots subtly appeared on my once pale skin. The heating in the room was on full blast, accelerating the process. My soul was bound by an invisible force to Arthur, compelled to follow him.

At that moment, Arthur was driving, his brow deeply furrowed. In the passenger seat, Sarah, her head wrapped in gauze, was playing with my phone. She secretly glanced at Arthurs expression. She opened my social media, rapidly typing a line of text. She even specifically tagged Arthur before hitting send. Having done all this, she contentedly slipped my phone back into her bag. Looking up at Arthur, she resumed her delicate, innocent demeanor.

Mr. Sterling, Jessie she seems really angry.

Arthur, who was driving, snorted coldly at her words, then took out his own phone. When he tapped into social media and saw the latest post on my account, his face instantly darkened.

[If you dare to leave, Ill die at home, making you regret it for the rest of your life!]

Bang!

Arthur slammed his fist on the steering wheel, the horn blaring harshly, drawing glances from passersby.

This lunatic! Arthur gritted his teeth, veins throbbing on his forehead. After a night of cooling off, he had still felt a pang of concern for me. After all, I wasnt well, and he had thrown water in my face yesterday. He had thought about going back to check on me and perhaps bring me some medicine. But this social media post completely severed his thought of returning home.

Since you want to die, then dont blame me for not coming back. Arthur sharply turned the steering wheel, making a U-turn. The road home became the road to Sarahs apartment.

Mr. Sterling, is Jessie really angry? Sarah asked timidly, her eyes brimming with triumph. Perhaps you should still go back and check on her. Ill be fine alone.

No, Arthur spat out coldly. She plays these games too much; the more I humor her, the worse she gets. This time, she needs a lesson!

At Sarahs apartment, Sarah pulled out all the stops to keep Arthur there. She tied on an apron and bustled in the kitchen, then suddenly let out a small Ouch! Arthur, who was sulking on the sofa, immediately rushed into the kitchen. He saw Sarahs finger, red and scalded by hot soup.

Why are you so careless? Arthurs brow furrowed. He immediately pulled her hand under the faucet to rinse it. His movements were gentle, his eyes filled with concern.

This scene stung my eyes. Before, when I cut my hand in the kitchen and asked him to put a bandage on it, he would always say, Just take care of minor injuries yourself; Im very busy. It turned out he wasnt incapable of showing affection; he just didnt show it to me.

Just then, Arthurs phone rang. It was Dr. Jones, my attending physician. Arthur glanced at the screen, sneered, and answered the call.

Hello?

On the other end, Dr. Joness voice was filled with urgency. Arthur? Wheres Jessie? Ive been calling her phone, and no one answers! Her test results from yesterday are in, and her condition is very critical! She needs to be hospitalized immediately! Quickly, make her answer the phone!

Arthur impatiently cut him off, his tone laced with sarcasm. Dr. Jones, Jessie is even using you to get my attention now? You two put on quite a show.

What did you say? Dr. Jones was stunned. Arthur, Im not joking! Jessies lungs are already

Enough! Arthur coldly interrupted. Tell Jessie that if her suicide attempt turns real, Ill just make arrangements for her burial. Dont think that teaming up with a doctor can scare me; Im not falling for it.

With that, he hung up the phone and immediately blocked Dr. Jones. I floated nearby, desperately wanting to scream, wanting to explain. But my voice couldnt reach his ears.

After hanging up, Arthurs anger hadnt subsided. To spite me, he deliberately posed for a photo with Sarah. In the picture, Sarah held a wine glass, smiling sweetly. Arthur sat opposite her, his face stern, but the background was a cozy candlelight dinner. Sarah immediately posted it, with the caption:

[Thank you for spending the warmest Pancake Day with me. May we be together for many years to come.]

She had set the privacy to only visible to me.

Late at night, brilliant fireworks suddenly exploded outside the window. Arthur stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the fleeting fireworks, his eyes distant. He unconsciously stroked his phone, then, on an impulse, sent me a message.

[Have you caused enough trouble? If so, cook your own pancakes and eat them. Dont starve to death at home and bring bad luck.]

The message was sent, but there was no reply, not even the familiar typing Arthur stared at the screen for a while, then irritably tossed his phone onto the bed. He thought I was throwing a tantrum, giving him the silent treatment. But he didnt know that my body was quietly lying on the lounge chair, slowly decaying.

February 17th. Arthur woke up at Sarahs apartment, his head throbbing from a hangover. He instinctively reached for his phone; the screen was blank, with no unread messages. In the past, even if I was angry, I wouldnt ignore him for more than a night. I would make him hangover soup; I would message him, asking if his stomach hurt. But now, the silence was unsettling.

Before, shed cling to me even if I just gave her a slight cold shoulder. Humph, now shes gotten quite bold. Arthur tossed his phone aside, an inexplicable anger surging within him. He cursed defiantly, Fine, you want to play the waiting game, do you? Lets see how many days you can last.

Sarah entered, carrying breakfast. Observing Arthurs expression, she tentatively suggested, Mr. Sterling, the weather is nice today. Why dont we go for a walk by the sea? Youve been too tired lately. Arthur had intended to refuse, but remembering my obstinate presence at home, he nodded on a whim.

Just as they finished tidying up and were about to leave, the property managers call came through to Arthurs phone.

Mr. Sterling, your downstairs neighbor complained that theres a strange odor coming from your apartment, like something rotten. Could you please come home and deal with it?

Arthurs brow immediately furrowed into a knot. He remembered my half-dead appearance on the lounge chair before he left yesterday, and that bag of nuts he had kicked over. It must be me, trying to spite him, deliberately not taking out the trash, perhaps even scattering food everywhere. Arthurs voice was cold as he spoke into the phone.

It must be my wife, trying to annoy me, deliberately not throwing out the trash. Just ignore her; shell clean it up when she cant stand it anymore. He hung up, his disgust growing.

The car drove all the way to the beach. The winter sea wind was strong, making peoples faces sting. Arthur stood on the rocks, looking at the churning waves. His restless mood didnt calm down; instead, it became even more chaotic. He suddenly remembered our wedding anniversary. I had pulled on his sleeve, my eyes sparkling, saying, Arthur, I want to see the sea. When I feel a little better, can we go to the beach and collect seashells?

But he had said, Im very busy. Next time.

Arthur looked at the seashells at his feet, his heart suddenly softening. He picked out a shell bracelet from a small roadside stall. Never mind, Ill go back and appease her. Arthur, holding the bracelet, mumbled to himself, Shes not well; it would be troublesome if she got sick from anger.

He turned to a convenience store to buy water, thinking of getting me a hot milk too. As he paid, Sarah, standing not far away, stared at his back with venomous eyes. She took out my phone, hidden in her bag. She skillfully opened the browser, downloaded a photo of slit wrists from the internet, and sent it to herself. Then she quickly put my phone back in her bag, adopting a terrified expression, and rushed towards Arthur, holding her own phone.

Mr. Sterling! Mr. Sterling, its bad! Sarah shrieked, her voice choked with sobs. Jessie sent me a picture she said she slit her wrists! Look!

Arthur had just received his change; the coins scattered all over the floor with a clatter. He snatched Sarahs phone, staring intently at the photo. Bright red blood stung his eyes. Towering fury surged within him. Another threat! Yesterday it was a hunger strike, today its slitting wrists, tomorrow will she jump off a building?

Lunatic! Arthur roared, fiercely raising his hand. The newly bought shell bracelet plunged into the sea with a splash, instantly swallowed by the waves.

Absolutely irrational! Arthurs eyes were bloodshot, his chest heaving violently. She wants to die, does she? Fine! Let her cut! Lets see how much blood she can shed! I floated in the sea breeze, watching the bracelet sink to the bottom. It was the first time he had ever bought me a gift, and he had thrown it away himself.

Arthur, I dont hurt anymore. Truly.