After Christina, my girlfriend, saw her massive garden wither overnight, she sued me, Ethan, Ashworth's top florist, and I was sentenced to three years in prison. While inside, I heard about her ninth engagement to her ex, Raphael. A reporter asked her: “Ms. Christina, the first thing you did after sending Mr. Ethan to prison was to get engaged to this gentleman. Is there a connection between these two events?” “Don't make wild guesses. Raphael and I are just pretending to be engaged to punish Ethan for his floristry mistake. I’ll wait for Ethan to get out of prison, then I’ll marry him!” Christina faced the reporters with an annoyed tone, her words clearly defending me. Everyone present couldn't help but marvel at the wealthy heiress's love for me, bizarre as it was, it seemed profound. Everyone at Ashworth knew Christina loved flowers more than anything. So, a mandatory condition for her future husband was exquisite floristry skills, someone who would meticulously care for her sprawling estate garden. To ensure I passed her endless tests, whenever I made a mistake, she’d punish me with a ‘fake engagement’ to her ex. I never expected that this time, the punishment would include sending me to jail. I watched the poor quality news footage, finding it dull and hypocritical.
After three years of torment and my release from prison, Christina actually knelt before me, her eyes full of eagerness and remorse: “Marry me, Ethan? The past is the past. I forgive you.” “Forgive me?” I replied, stunned. I looked at the once imperious Christina, now kneeling before me in a heavy, elaborate wedding dress and high heels. I admit, I was somewhat disoriented, but mostly, I felt the exhaustion from three years of relentless torment. “Hey! What are you staring at? Don’t you see what Christina is doing? Just say yes!” Seeing the wealthy heiress so eager to marry a disheveled ex-con, the onlookers, who were just there to gawk and applaud, couldn't help but scold me, the male lead. The swarming media and crowds created an oppressive atmosphere, forcing me to bend down, intending to help Christina up first. Just as I extended my hand, ready to push away the ring and refuse, Christina suddenly handed the ring to Raphael, who was beside her, and burst out laughing at me: “Look at you, still so clueless. You haven't even passed my test yet, and you're already dreaming of marrying me? What are you thinking?” “Right, Raphael? This ring was custom-made for your size. A birthday surprise for you! Happy?” Her gaze towards Raphael was full of girlish anticipation. Before Christina’s words even faded, the roar of laughter from the crowd became deafening. “So funny! Doesn’t he take a good look at himself? Still fantasizing about marrying a rich heiress.” “Why does Christina fall for a guy like him?” “I don’t think Ms. Christina is infatuated. It’s Ethan who’s willing to grovel like a dog for Ms. Christina.” “Ms. Christina is used to charming millionaires, but a lapdog? That’s new.” As the background music swelled to a climax, my head buzzed, and I couldn't hear anything clearly. All I saw were faces sneering at me, and Christina and Raphael wrapped intimately together. Yes, what illusions was I still holding about Christina? It had been nine years. She had punished me countless times with similar methods, always citing failed assessments. This was the tenth time I witnessed her ‘marry’ herself off to Raphael. Everyone mocked me, saying all I had was my floristry skill; my background and looks were nothing next to Christina’s.
In the past, whenever I faced these rumors, she would always stand in front of me, scolding the gossipers, then turn, lean down, cup my face, and console me: “Ethan, when I got together with you, I knew you were the one. I don't care about your background; your talent is all I value.” Her constant reassurances made me fall for her again and again. But after three years in prison, I finally understood that rumors don't just appear out of nowhere. It was Christina herself who repeatedly humiliated me and turned me into Ashworth's biggest joke, slowly eroding all the passion I had for this relationship. The crowd finally dispersed, but the excitement in Christina’s eyes hadn’t completely faded. When her gaze landed on me, it dimmed considerably. “Are you angry about earlier? All the flowers in my garden died that year, and I still haven't gotten over it. Come back and explain it to me properly.” She said, feigning shyness, her hands casually resting on my shoulders. This was her usual way of flirting. I felt no stirring. In fact, she reminded me. I also wanted to uncover the truth behind my innocent three-year imprisonment, especially since those flowers withering overnight had absolutely nothing to do with me. Back at the mansion, all the staff seemed to have received special instructions. Their attitude towards me was no longer disdainful like three years ago, but overly solicitous and attentive. Massages, fresh clothes, a lavish dinner—everything was arranged for me. “Well? Ethan, are you satisfied? Those three years weren't just hard for you; waiting for you was tough for me too~” Christina looked at me eagerly, wearing a skimpy swimsuit. “If you thought I’d have a tough time, why did you send me to prison?” I took the opportunity to ask, genuinely confused. “The day after we argued, all the flowers in my garden died. You know how much I loved those flowers. How could I not doubt your sincerity after you did something like that?” “I told you many times, I didn’t do it!” “You still won't admit it. Raphael was right; you were only with me for the money! That's why you weren't sincere with me!” As she said this, the anger and contempt in Christina's eyes were almost overflowing. I knew that look all too well. In her mind, she would never believe my words. But she'd believe every word Raphael said, no matter how absurd, but never mine. “Since you're still unrepentant, then our engagement will be postponed indefinitely. The assessment continues!” Christina indignantly wrapped a towel around herself, one corner sweeping sharply across my face. With the stinging pain on my cheek, I stood frozen, like I’d swallowed a fishbone. My throat felt raw and bloody, my every breath tasted of iron. I opened my mouth but couldn’t manage a single word. I wanted to tell Christina that our engagement should have been called off long ago, that I no longer wanted to marry her. I’d find the truth, then I’d leave. After staring blankly by the pool for several hours, I dragged my tired body back to my room, only to find the master bedroom locked. I asked Brenda, the housekeeper, but she just gave me a cold stare. “Ms. Christina said you can’t sleep in the master bedroom tonight. Your things have been moved to the storage room.” Brenda gestured towards a tiny storage room, barely big enough to turn around in, then turned and gave me a sneering, contemptuous look. She seemed to be waiting to see my reaction to her humiliation. I curved my lips, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Serving Christina must feel great, huh? You even get to play with me, her 'dog,' now and then!” Brenda quickly feigned a look of fear and made a hollow excuse, “Oh, no, sir, I wouldn’t dare.”
But I had only taken two steps when I heard her and the other staff laughing. Looking at the bed in the storage room, barely two feet wide, I clutched my head, overwhelmed, trying my best to suppress the surging emotions within me. Perhaps triggered by my terrible mood, an old injury from prison flared up. My entire lower body suddenly went numb. I dragged my heavy frame, painfully crawling to the door, yelling for help outside. “Help! Can someone please get me my medication!” I used all my strength, banging on the door and screaming desperately. No one responded. It wasn't until half an hour later that Christina’s voice, laced with amusement, drifted up. “Ethan, do you think acting pitiful like this will make me forgive you sooner?” “Raphael, look at him. If you had been more like him back then, maybe we wouldn't have broken up.” Christina gently opened the door, peered through the crack, looking down at me playfully, then coyly nudged the man beside her with her finger. “Christina, my leg injury flared up. Please send me…” I ignored their mockery, enduring the intense pain as I looked at Christina with pleading eyes. But before I could finish, Raphael cut me off. He kicked me on the floor, laughing loudly. “I’m not going to be a lapdog.” “Alright, let’s stop looking at the chihuahua. Christina, didn’t you want me to come back with you to get that expensive custom-made sexy lingerie? Let’s not waste any more time!” Hearing this, Christina’s smug expression froze. After a moment, she looked at me with a slightly apologetic gaze. “Uh… Ethan, don't misunderstand. I just booked a private photoshoot, and since we argued, I just asked Raphael to come with me.” “We… there’s nothing going on. You… you should rest well. Don't stay on the cold floor.” Christina’s explanation was weak and unconvincing… but I no longer had the energy to care. When I tried to raise my head again, reaching out to Christina for help, she abruptly shut the door, almost catching my hand. I lay on the floor, wailing in desperate pain, only hearing Christina’s coy, chiding voice fading into the distance. The next time I woke, I was in a hospital. “You’re awake?” Christina’s slightly anxious voice actually reached my ears. “Why didn’t you make it clear yesterday? Brenda said you called for help for a long time.” Before I could reply, Christina continued, feigning urgent concern. “Didn’t you tell Brenda to ignore me?” I looked at her coldly. “I told her to just give you a small punishment, not to let you die! Don’t worry, I’ve fired Brenda. Is that enough?” She angrily picked up her phone, quickly typed a few words, then looked at me with an imperious expression. As if any emotion from me was now my fault. She always played dumb, never realizing that the one who constantly hurt me was always herself. I closed my eyes in despair, not saying another word. Just then, Christina’s phone rang, and her voice immediately reverted to its sweetest tone. “Okay, tonight we won’t go home until we’re smashed. Wait for me at our usual spot.” “The doctor said you’re fine. You rest well. I’ll come back to see you later.” After hanging up, she hastily grabbed her bag and left, leaving me with only her retreating back. Because it was an old injury, the doctor gave me the usual specialized medication, and the immediate effect was significant.
I could move freely now, truly no different from a normal person. But when I was discharged, the doctor looked worried. “Mr. Ethan, you need this surgery soon. The injury has affected the foundation. If you delay it further, it will spread to your limbs, and potentially… full paralysis.” Even though the prison doctor had told me similar things, hearing the words “full paralysis” again still left me stunned for a long time. Full paralysis… what a devastating outcome for a top florist… Christina, all this is thanks to you. Are you satisfied? I sat blankly on the sofa, looking at the follow-up recommendations on my medical record, suddenly feeling utterly pointless. I wiped away a tear, booked the earliest flight to France, departing tomorrow afternoon at three. Just then, my phone rang. The words ‘My Love’ on the screen flashed, stinging my eyes. I didn't answer. After the tenth call, I still couldn't resist hitting the answer button. Christina’s sobbing voice came through the phone. “Ethan, I’m drunk. Please come pick me up. I’m so sorry for everything lately. I know I was wrong.” “Just come get me and take me home. You can do anything you want. We'll be good together from now on, okay?” Christina’s sobs grew more pitiful, almost breaking down. Hearing her fragile state, my heart still gave an involuntary tug. Almost as soon as I hung up, I rushed to the garage. By the time I regained my senses, I had already floored the accelerator. I told myself, this is the last time. Let it be… a farewell. Inside the decadent club, laughter of indulgence filled the air. I was wearing a stuffy old suit, completely out of place in the environment. Ignoring the cold, mocking stares, I gasped for breath and rushed towards the VIP room at the end of the corridor. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw Christina in a sexy, low-back dress, dancing intimately with Raphael. As the music entered a more intimate rhythm, they embraced and kissed, Christina clearly enjoying herself, lost in the moment. “Hey, Ethan, you made it!” Others in the room noticed me, and the music abruptly stopped. Christina looked at me, her expression calm, even a little smug. “Ethan, I knew you’d come. These guys didn’t believe me, insisting I call you.” “Don’t misunderstand, I just lost a game earlier and was doing a dare.” Almost simultaneously, deafening laughter erupted in the room. Raphael looked at my embarrassment, a mischievous, provocative thought sparking in his mind. “Since you’re here, why don’t you join us? Let me introduce you to some of your old friends.” As I stood there confused, three burly men emerged from another room in the VIP suite. Recognizing their faces, I started trembling uncontrollably, a cold sweat instantly breaking out on my back. “Remember them? You should be quite familiar, right?” Raphael said with a smile. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt filled with lead; I couldn’t make a sound. “Ethan, Raphael said you two had some past grievances. Why don’t you take this opportunity to settle things here?” “Just apologize to them sincerely. Then this matter will be resolved, right, Raphael?” Seeing my lack of response, Christina feigned trying to mediate. “Bullshit feud! It was one-sided abuse!” I couldn't hold back anymore. Anger finally triumphed over fear, and I retorted sharply.
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