e Spar

n't send flowers. I just stayed home, packing the last of my things, pruning the rose bushe

oice trembling. "Mrs. Jackson, Mr. Jackson's stomach ulcer has f

d rosebud. "I'm sorry to

him, how to get him to eat. You always made him that special

xing him to eat, wiping his feverish brow. The old Celeste would

, my voice devoid of emotion. "I do

. Davies stuttered, "But... but Mrs

, I hung up. I switched off my phone and went to bed, falling into a de

edical advice and returned home a day later. I found h

his voice weak. "W

aze unwavering. "Why

.. you always did.

lden," I stated si

tachment. "Celeste, I want to celebrate our wedding anniversary. It's coming up. I know I have

mantic dinners, choose perfect gifts. It had been

den," I said with a shrug.

s of guests, ordered the most expensive champagne, and arranged for a famous band to play. The entire event wa

ked, how lucky Holden was. I smiled, nodded, and floated through the crowd, my heart utterly disengag

the balcony, seeking refuge from the suffocating pretens

appy couple's anniversary," a

her eyes. "Holden invited me, you know. He

nify that wi

dripping with venom. "Truly happy? Because I kn

her, a cool, indifferent smile playing on my l

he hadn't expected me to spe

"Always repeating the same sad, desperate tune. Crying for attention from a man who clear

her eyes blazing with fury

voice cutting through hers. "You're not even worth the emotional ene