The Cold Rose

With our wedding approaching, I was happily planning our new home.

Jason came back from his business trip and brought two boxes of gifts to the office. He gave Gary some exclusive imported coffee beans. He got Daisy a top-tier lavender sleep mist.

He carefully catered to everyone's preferences, but stood completely empty-handed in front of me.

He casually tossed a rosewater pastry that Daisy didn't want onto my desk.

"I was in a rush and forgot to count you in. Just make do with this pastry."

Daisy leaned in with a sickly sweet smile. "Jason is so thoughtful. You are such a lucky woman, Annie."

I looked down at the ingredient label. The word 'rose' stared back at me, and my heart went completely numb.

Seven years together. He had accompanied Daisy to countless floral exhibitions. Yet, he still could not remember that I was severely allergic to roses. The slightest contact could kill me.

He didn't even care about my life anymore. What was I still clinging to?

I didn't humbly remind him like I used to.

Instead, I unlocked my phone and calmly contacted our wedding planner.

"Please cancel the wedding for next month. I am backing out."

Hanging up the phone, my screen went dark.

I pushed the pastry to the corner of my desk, pulled out a wet wipe, and meticulously cleaned my fingers.

Through the glass partition, Jason was standing by Daisy's cubicle. Her eyes curved into a bright smile. When she reached for her mug, her fingertips naturally brushed against the back of his hand.

Jason didn't pull away.

"Annie, is the pastry not to your liking?"

Daisy's voice echoed from the doorway.

Jason walked in behind her, his brows slightly furrowed.

"Why aren't you eating it?"

He glanced at the corner of the desk, his tone practiced and laced with reprimand. "Daisy specifically picked the biggest piece for you. Stop looking so miserable."

I threw the used wet wipe into the trash can.

"I don't like it."

I looked at him, my voice very quiet.

Jason looked irritated. He stepped forward and tapped his knuckles against the desk.

"Annie, are you throwing another tantrum?"

He lowered his voice. "I have been working around the clock on this trip. I genuinely didn't have time to shop for gifts. Are you really going to make a huge deal out of a pastry?"

I stared at his face.

After seven years together, there was a time when he would notice if I even frowned slightly. Now, he only thought I was being unreasonable.

He had forgotten. Valentine's Day of our sophomore year in college, he mistakenly bought me a cake with rose extract. I took one bite, suffered acute laryngeal edema, and was resuscitated in the ER for three hours.

He knelt by my hospital bed with red, tear-filled eyes, swearing he would never let anything containing roses near me again.

Now, a box clearly labeled as a double-layered rose pastry was sitting casually right next to my hand.

"I am not throwing a tantrum."

Daisy stepped forward and tugged gently at Jason's sleeve.

"Jason, maybe Annie is just exhausted from the wedding prep."

She offered an understanding smile. "Don't be mad at her. It is my fault. I didn't pick something she likes."

Jason patted the back of her hand, the gesture heavy with reassurance.

"She is just spoiled."

He turned to me, his tone softening a fraction. "Alright. I will take you to that exclusive Omakase place you love tonight as an apology. We are shooting our wedding photos next week. Cheer up."

I watched him play his familiar game of giving a slap followed by a piece of candy.

I used to fall for this routine every single time.

As long as he lowered his pride slightly, I would mentally make excuses for him. He was too busy. He was under pressure. He was just careless.

But right now, I was suddenly, terrifyingly awake.

"No need."

Jason froze.

He clearly didn't expect me to refuse. According to our usual script, I was supposed to take the out he offered, and he would smoothly move on.

"Suit yourself."

His face darkened, and he tugged at his tie. "Whenever you are done throwing a fit, you can come talk to me."

With that, he turned and walked out of the office.

I lowered my head, my gaze falling on the document sitting on my desk.

It was a cross-regional transfer application.

The company was opening a new branch in a neighboring city and desperately needed an experienced director to take the helm.

Previously, Jason had forbidden me from taking it. He claimed long-distance would ruin our relationship and insisted I shouldn't disrupt my life right before our wedding.

I compromised, even giving up a major promotion just for him.

I picked up my pen and steadily signed 'Annie Bennett' on the applicant line.

The nib scratched against the paper, making a soft, definitive sound.

After signing, I swept the rose pastry and its packaging straight into the trash can.

Then, I opened my phone and set Jason's messages to 'Do Not Disturb'.

His last text was still sitting in our chat from the night before.

"Coming back tomorrow. Brought a surprise for you."

It turned out his surprise was forcing me to see exactly where I stood.

I placed my phone face down on the desk, opened my laptop, and began organizing my handover files.

It would take about a week for the transfer approval to come through.

That was just enough time for me to wipe my presence clean from this place.

At six in the evening, the office slowly emptied out.

Jason pushed the door open, his car keys dangling from his fingers.

"Let's go."

His tone was perfectly normal, as if the unpleasantness from the morning had never happened. "We are heading to the Plaza Hotel to finalize the banquet menu. Haven't you been craving their lobster for days?"

I closed my laptop without looking at him.

"We don't need to go."

I stood up and pushed my chair back into place.

Jason frowned. He took a step forward and gripped my wrist.

"Annie, how long are you going to keep this up?"

Exhaustion bled into his voice. "I took the initiative to come pick you up. Can you please just be a little mature?"

His palm was radiating heat, but the back of my hand was ice cold.

Just as I was about to pull my hand away, his phone rang.

It was the custom ringtone for his VIP contacts.

Jason paused, immediately releasing my wrist to pull out his phone.

The name 'Daisy' flashed on the screen.

He answered, his tone softening instantly. "What's wrong?"

Daisy's tearful voice drifted through the speaker, accompanied by faint whimpers about severe stomach cramps and not being able to move.

Jason's expression changed in a heartbeat.

"Don't move. Stay at your desk. I am taking you to the emergency room right now."

He hung up the phone and looked up at me, his eyes filled with an unapologetic, expected sense of apology.

"Annie, Daisy is having acute stomach spasms. I have to get her to the ER."

He shoved his keys back into his pocket. "Go set the menu yourself. Pick whatever fits your taste, and I will cover the bill."

He didn't wait for my response before turning on his heel.

Right at the door, he stopped and threw a sentence over his shoulder.

"Don't be petty. She doesn't have any family in this city. I can't just leave her."

The door clicked shut, and his hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

I stood frozen, staring at the wrist he had just let go of.

He used to do this all the time.

Halfway through a movie, Daisy texted saying her apartment lost power and she was scared. He left me sitting in the theater alone.

On the day of my wedding dress fitting, Daisy claimed her car broke down. He left me waiting in the bridal boutique in my gown for three hours.

Every single time, he would tell me not to be petty.

I used to believe it was because he was kind and responsible.

Now I knew he simply believed my waiting for him was an unconditional right.

I grabbed my purse and took a cab to the Plaza Hotel.

The banquet manager was already waiting in the grand lobby. Seeing me arrive alone, he paused in surprise.

"Ms. Bennett, is Mr. Mikaels not joining you?"

The manager eagerly led me toward the VIP lounge. "The executive chef prepared a special tasting menu for you both today."

"He has other business."

Stepping into the VIP lounge, I saw the menu booklet resting on the table, right next to the schedule for next month's wedding.

The manager flipped the menu open. "Look here. Mr. Mikaels specifically requested that no onions or garlic be used in any of the dishes, and he added your favorite crme br?le for dessert."

I stared at the name of the dessert, feeling a bitter sense of irony.

He remembered that I hated onions and garlic. He remembered that I loved sweets.

But he couldn't remember that touching a rose would kill me.

His attentiveness was entirely selective.

"Mr. Odell."

I closed the menu and pushed it toward the center of the table.

"I am not doing the tasting."

The manager froze, the professional smile stiffening on his face. "Is there something you are unhappy with? We can make adjustments right now."

"It has nothing to do with the food."

I reached into my bag, pulled out the banquet deposit contract, and placed it flat on the table.

"Please process the cancellation for me."

The VIP lounge fell dead silent for ten whole seconds.

The manager stared at me in disbelief. "Ms. Bennett, the wedding is less than a month away. If you cancel now, the deposit is completely non-refundable. Did you and Mr. Mikaels have a fight? Would you like to take some time to discuss it?"

"There is nothing to discuss."

I pulled a pen from my bag and uncapped it. "Deduct the breach of contract fee as stated, and refund the remaining balance to the original account."

Seeing my absolute resolve, the manager wiped the sweat from his forehead and went to fetch the termination agreement.

"Are you absolutely certain? This is a sixty-table grand ballroom."

"I am certain."

I signed my name at the bottom of the agreement.

No hesitation. No trembling fingers.

After signing, I walked out of the hotel.

My phone buzzed.

It was a text from Jason.

"Daisy is on an IV drip. The doctor says they need to monitor her overnight."

"Send me a copy of the menu when you are done. I will buy you a new designer bag tomorrow to make up for it. Don't be mad."

I looked at the message, finding it incredibly laughable.

He didn't even bother asking if I got home safely. He just directly tried to buy off my grievances with material things.

Returning to the apartment, I pulled out a suitcase and laid it open on the rug.

Jason had purchased this penthouse, but I had personally designed and furnished every inch of it.

From the plush rug in the living room to the ceramic plates in the kitchen, every single item held my quiet hopes for our future.

Now, I only picked out the things that strictly belonged to me.

A few everyday clothes, some professional reference books, and my two work laptops.

As for the matching couple's pajamas and the matching slippers, I didn't lay a single finger on them.

Halfway through packing, the electronic lock on the front door chimed.

I paused, shoved the suitcase into the corner of the walk-in closet, and covered it with a few garment bags.

Jason pushed the door open, carrying the distinct, sharp scent of hospital sanitizer.

Seeing me sitting on the edge of the bed folding clothes, he walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.

He rested his chin heavily on my shoulder, his voice rough with exhaustion.

"You aren't asleep yet?"

I didn't struggle. I just offered a faint sound of acknowledgment.

"Are you still angry?"

He tightened his grip, his warm breath fanning against my ear. "Daisy is all alone in this city. It is pitiful when she gets sick. I am going to be your husband. Can't you just be a little more forgiving?"

He always did this. He used the softest, gentlest tone to lock a moral collar around my neck.

If I said no, I was unforgiving. I was unreasonable.

"I am not angry."

I smoothed out the shirt in my hands and placed it in the drawer.

Jason seemed to let out a breath of relief.

He turned me around and dipped his head, intending to kiss me.

I turned my face away. His lips landed awkwardly on my cheek.

He froze, his eyes darkening instantly.

"Annie Bennett."

He called me by my full name, his tone lacing with a subtle warning.

"I am just tired."

I stood up, avoiding his gaze. "We have to go pick up the wedding bands tomorrow."

Hearing the mention of the rings, Jason's expression immediately softened.

We had custom-ordered them from an exclusive private atelier two months ago.

The inner bands were engraved with our combined initials.

"Alright."

He massaged his temples. "Tomorrow is Saturday. I will spend the entire day with you. We can go check out the location for our wedding photoshoot while we are at it."

He made the promise with absolute certainty.

I merely lowered my eyes and said okay.

The next morning, we drove to the atelier.

The designer smiled warmly, pushing two velvet boxes across the counter.

"Mr. Mikaels, Ms. Bennett, your custom rings are ready. Please try them on for sizing."

I opened my box.

It was a minimalist platinum band. The inside was cleanly engraved with 'C.H. & A.B.'

Jason reached out to take his ring, but his phone rang at the exact same moment.

He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.

"What's wrong?"

Whatever the person on the other end said, Jason's face hardened instantly.

"I left the files in the second drawer on the left side of my desk. Look again. You still can't find them?"

He checked his watch, his brows knitting tightly. "Fine. Don't panic. I am heading back to the office right now."

He hung up and looked at me.

"Annie, Daisy lost the core data she needs for the afternoon board meeting. I have to go back and help her find it."

He grabbed his car keys, his tone hurried.

"Try the ring on yourself. If it fits, just bring it home. We can look at the photoshoot locations another day."

I sat perfectly still on the velvet barstool, watching his rushing figure.

"Jason."

I called out to him.

He stopped in his tracks and looked back at me. Impatience was already bleeding into his eyes.

"Can't she find it herself?"

I looked straight into his eyes, asking with absolute calm.

"That data dictates the budget for the next quarter. A junior employee like her cannot handle this kind of crisis alone."

He frowned deeply. "Can you please not lose your sense of priority at a critical time like this?"

A sense of priority.

It turned out that, compared to our wedding rings, Daisy's careless mistake was his true priority.

"Understood."

Jason seemed satisfied with my obedience today. He walked back quickly, pressed a rushed kiss to my forehead, and said, "Be good. I will take you out for an amazing dinner tonight."

The shop bell chimed, and he was gone.

The designer stood awkwardly behind the counter. "Ms. Bennett, about the rings..."

I placed Jason's ring back into its box and pushed it toward her.

"Do me a favor."

I looked at the designer, my voice perfectly steady.

"I am not taking the men's ring."

I handed my ring over to her.

"Please grind off Jason's initials on the inside of this one. Leave only my name."

From this day forward, I did not need anyone else's name permanently carved into my world.

On Monday morning, the official approval for my regional transfer was issued.

The HR Director called me into her office, looking at me with heavy concern. "Annie, the new branch is basically a startup. Going there means dealing with a lot of hardship. You are getting married in less than a month. Does Mr. Mikaels know you are leaving?"

"He doesn't need to know."

I took the document and steadily signed my name on the confirmation line. "I applied for this unilaterally. I will report to the new office on Friday."

The director sighed heavily and didn't press the issue further.

Returning to my desk, I began wiping all personal files from my computer.

Over the next three days, I systematically dismantled the seven years of ties binding me to Jason.

I packed the last of my personal belongings from the penthouse and shipped them to the executive housing at the new branch.

I quietly exited the group chats with his family, offering zero explanations.

I contacted the bridal boutique and sold my custom gown. The one I had waited six months for went at cost to a desperate bride who needed it immediately.

Thursday night was my final night in the apartment.

I placed my key on the entryway tray. Right next to it, I left the platinum ring, now completely stripped of his initials.

Having done all of this, I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked out the door.

Friday afternoon, I sat on the high-speed train heading to the neighboring city.

The scenery blurred past the window. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Jason.

"We are doing your dress fitting tonight. I will leave work half an hour early to pick you up. I promise I will absolutely not be late this time."

A second later, he sent a photo of a bouquet of pink tulips.

"Saw these walking past a florist. I thought they suited you perfectly. I will bring them to you tonight."

I looked at the photo of the flowers and my lips twitched in a joyless smile.

He finally remembered that I couldn't touch roses. But he completely forgot that I utterly despised the color pink.

I didn't reply. I tapped on his profile and hit 'Delete'.

The moment the red exclamation mark appeared, I let out a long, shuddering breath of absolute relief.

The train shot through a dark tunnel, plunging the cabin into temporary shadows.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the seat.

Jason was probably still radiating absolute confidence. He truly believed that as long as he showed up on time tonight with a bouquet of flowers, I would forgive his endless string of absences exactly like I always did.

He didn't know that I didn't belong to him anymore.

At seven-thirty that evening, the city skyline lit up with neon.

Holding the carefully selected bouquet of pink tulips, Jason pushed open the door to the penthouse exactly on time.

He casually brushed a speck of dust off his shoulder, a self-assured smile playing on his lips. He fully expected to see Annie walking toward him the second she heard the door, reaching out to take the flowers just like she always did.

He had even rehearsed the lines in his head. He knew exactly how he would lean down to kiss her, how he would coax a smile out of her.

"Annie, I'm home."

However, the only thing greeting him was dead silence and the chilling, empty air of an abandoned space.

The confident smile froze on Jason's face. He stopped mid-motion while taking off his shoes, his gaze instinctively dropping to the entryway tray.

Resting silently on the tray was a spare key to the apartment. Right beside it was the velvet box they had just picked up a few days ago.

A nameless, suffocating panic violently seized Jason's chest.

He dropped the tulips onto the floor and reached out with trembling fingers to pry the box open.

Inside lay the pristine platinum women's ring.

But the inside of the band, where their combined initials were supposed to be, had been brutally ground down.

The letters 'J.M.' had been ruthlessly erased, leaving behind only a harsh, jagged scar that seemed to silently mock his overwhelming arrogance.

Pink tulips lay scattered and crushed across the rug. Jason gripped the ruined ring so tightly his knuckles turned bone white, his eyes instantly flushing a terrifying, bloodshot red.