The Only Flowers He Ever Bought Me Were For My Funeral

Brooke flashed a triumphant smile. "Chloe, is there anything else? Ethan and I have reservations at a rooftop restaurant. Too bad it's only booked for two. We can't take you along." I let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I have no intention of tagging along." I pulled my purse higher up on my shoulder. "I'm good. I'll head out first. Have a nice date." My unusually cold attitude made Ethan frown. He grabbed my wrist. "Don't talk like that. I only look at her like a little sister." "I made extra food this morning. It's in the fridge. Just microwave it when you get home." "Your period is coming up. Since I won't be home tonight, don't you dare drink iced soda." Looking at Ethan's concerned face, a wave of bitterness rushed over me. He was always like this. He claimed Brooke was just a sister, yet he abandoned me for her time and time again. I forced a faint smile. "Understood." Ethan's lips parted as if he wanted to say more, but Brooke pulled his arm. She intertwined her fingers with his. "Ethan, I'm starving. Let's go eat." "Back when my dad was alive, he never made me wait this long for dinner." Ethan's attention immediately shifted back to her. "You're being spoiled!" "Why didn't you tell me you were hungry earlier? You know you have low blood sugar." Seeing Brooke giggle, he tapped her forehead affectionately with his other hand. "Still laughing! If anything happens to you, how am I supposed to face your mother?" Brooke bit her lip playfully. "Okay, okay, I get it!" As she spoke, she threw a smug, sideways glance at me. Ethan, however, never looked back at me again. I watched their retreating figures and walked in the opposite direction. A moment later, my phone buzzed with a Snapchat from Ethan. "She's young and childish, but she doesn't mean any harm. Don't take it personally." I locked my screen. Suddenly, everything felt so pointless. Brooke put on this dramatic show every few days, yet Ethan fell for it every single time. One threw a tantrum, the other enabled her. Without me in the middle, they actually looked like a perfect couple. It was already 8:00 PM when I got home. Clutching my aching stomach, I opened the fridge to find something to eat. But when I saw the empty shelves, I froze. The "extra food" Ethan had made was already sitting in the trash can, ruined. Brooke had timed it perfectly. My phone buzzed with a Snapchat message from her: "Chloe, I went over to play with Ethan this morning when you weren't home. I thought those leftovers in the fridge were meant for the trash, so I threw them out. My bad!" "I guess you'll have to whip up something else for yourself." At the very end of the voice note, I could hear Ethan's fond voice in the background: "Are you happy now, you little troublemaker?" The sharp pain in my abdomen became so intense I could barely stand. I slid down to the kitchen floor, clutching my stomach. Summoning every ounce of strength, I dialed Ethan's number. "Ethan, my stomach hurts so badly... Can you... can you take me to the ER? I..." Before I could finish, a sweet, mocking voice answered. "Chloe, Ethan is in the shower." "Also, if you're sick, call 911. Why are you calling your ex-husband?" The call went dead. I whispered to the empty room, "But... I'm actually dying."

Ethan didn't show up at the hospital until the next afternoon. After a night of IV fluids, I was feeling slightly better, though my face was still ghostly pale. He came in carrying some breakfast and ruffled my hair. "How are you feeling? Any better?" My eyes were cold as I looked at him. "Ethan, last night, I had to call the ambulance myself." Ethan paused, his voice turning low and raspy. "Brooke only told me you had a stomachache after we finished dinner." "You always had a sensitive stomach. I thought it wasn't a big deal, so I drove her home first." He looked at me, a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. "Chloe, she's just an immature girl. We shouldn't drop to her level." The resentment I had suppressed for months finally exploded. I slapped the cup of milk out of his hand. The sudden movement pulled the IV needle straight out of my vein. "Ethan, when Brooke's blood sugar drops even slightly, you lose your mind!" "But when it comes to me, it's always 'nothing major.'" My voice choked up. "You 'thought,' you 'thought'... You always think you know everything! But do you have any idea that I—" "Chloe Carter!" Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose, cut me off abruptly. "Can we please not fight over this again?" "You know how much Professor Vance did for me back in college. Why do you always have to make things difficult for Brooke?" He sighed deeply, his gaze falling on the blood dripping from my hand. "I'll go get the nurse." Watching his back as he walked out, my vision blurred. I suddenly remembered when we first started dating. Professor Vance was still alive then, and Brooke hadn't been "entrusted" to Ethan yet. Back then, even if I got a tiny papercut, he would freak out. But after Brooke arrived, everything changed. When I cut my hand, he said it was fine. When my stomach was in agony, he said it was fine. And now, when I was actually dying, I couldn't even get the words out. The door pushed open. Ethan returned quickly with a nurse. The irritation on his face was gone, replaced by his usual calm, attentive demeanor as he explained my condition to the nurse. My attending physician happened to come in for rounds. Seeing Ethan next to me, he paused. "Are you her husband?" Ethan nodded. The doctor looked at my swollen, red eyes, and his tone turned harsh as he addressed Ethan. "Do you have any idea how critical her condition is right now? She needs to avoid any emotional stress." Before Ethan could reply, his phone rang. The screen showed: Brooke. I couldn't hear what Brooke was saying on the other end, but the moment he hung up, Ethan grabbed his coat. "Doctor, I have an emergency to take care of right now." "We can discuss Chloe's condition later." The doctor tried to call him back, but within seconds, Ethan had already rushed down the hallway. I stopped the doctor. Watching Ethan's familiar, disappearing back, I forced a weak smile. "It's okay, Doctor. I'm used to it." "Just tell me directly. How much time do I have left?"

After the doctor and nurse left, the room fell into a suffocating silence. Occasionally, patients walked past the window, accompanied by their doting husbands. I couldn't help but feel incredibly envious. Two months ago, I was diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer. At the time, I felt like my world was ending. I called Ethan, sobbing. But Brooke was the one who answered. "Chloe, Ethan is cooking for me. You know my blood sugar is low, and he won't rest until he watches me finish my meal." "He won't be coming home to tuck you in tonight. If you have a message for him, I can pass it along." My fingers had gone numb as I held the phone. My lips trembled, but I couldn't utter a single syllable. Ever since Professor Vance passed away and left Brooke in Ethan's care, my husband no longer belonged to me. He would be summoned straight from work to cook for her, because if Ethan didn't go, she would starve herself. He would come home at 11:00 PM, stay for less than half an hour, and then leave again because Brooke claimed she was too scared to sleep alone. The first month, I tried to be understanding. The second month, during another late-night call, I blocked the front door as he tried to leave. "Ethan, don't go!" "She is a grown woman! Why can't she take care of herself?" "And you are married! How do you expect me to feel about you staying overnight with another woman?" I thought he would understand. But Ethan just stood there, staring at me for a long time. Then, one by one, he pried my fingers off his waist. "Chloe, I have to go." After that, we fought constantly. Even when I threw tantrums and refused to eat, Ethan never looked back. It wasn't until my terminal cancer diagnosis two months ago that I finally realized how foolish I had been. From that day on, I stopped begging Ethan to stay. I even started handing him his coat when he got those late-night calls. Ethan finally smiled at me again. "Chloe, you've finally grown up." He kissed my forehead. I watched him leave, but all I wanted to do was laugh. I hadn't "grown up." I had just realized that I needed to start loving myself. But the realization came too late. I only had one month left to live. When I got home that evening, Ethan wasn't back yet. I opened Instagram and saw Brooke's latest post. "My personal chef is making me homemade lasagna from scratch. Let's stay like this forever." In the photo, Ethan wore an apron, a tender, loving smile on his face—a look I hadn't seen directed at me in a very long time. Many of our mutual friends had commented: "Now that Professor Vance is gone, Ethan really stepped up to take care of you~" "You two look so good together." "Honestly, you guys look like a married couple." Reading those comments, my already numb heart ached with a dull, throbbing pain. Ethan had replied quickly to one of the comments: "She's shy, don't tease her like that." I looked at his profile picture—it was still a photo of the two of us. Slowly, I typed a comment of my own: "You really do match. Wish you both the best." I wiped the tears from my face, locked my phone, and went to take a shower. When I came out, my screen was flashing relentlessly. 18 missed calls, all from Ethan. Since I didn't pick up, he had sent a barrage of Snapchats. "Why are you joining in on their stupid jokes?" Five minutes later: "Brooke is crying in her room because of your comment. She's terrified people are going to think she's a homewrecker." "I told you, she's just a sister to me. There is nothing going on. Delete the comment, now." Two minutes after that: "Chloe, Brooke refuses to eat and her blood sugar is dropping. If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you!" The most recent one was sent just a minute ago: "Unless you delete the comment and make a public apology saying you were just being dramatic..." "Don't even think about us getting back together." The sound of cold wind rushed through Ethan's voice note. In the noisy background, I heard the shouting of a street vendor from a bakery we used to visit. That bakery was fifty miles away from our apartment. It didn't take a genius to figure out who Ethan had driven all that way for in the middle of the night. I slowly typed back: "Then let's not get back together." "But the house and the car go to me."

Ethan replied with a single question mark. He tried to FaceTime me, but I declined. I turned off my phone. The world seemed to hit a pause button, finally falling silent. Ethan probably couldn't comprehend how the Chloe who once swore she would never leave him had suddenly changed so much. Truth be told, I couldn't comprehend it either. But there was no time left to dwell on it. In the limited time I had left, I wanted to secure as much as I could. At the very least, I needed to make sure my parents would be financially taken care of in their old age. I sat on the balcony, burying my face in my knees, occasionally looking up at the stars. I wondered which star belonged to my grandpa. I believed that when the day came, he would be there to guide me. I sat there all night. The sound of Ethan's key turning in the lock never came. After tidying up, I went to the most prestigious law firm in the city. "Under these circumstances, what are my chances of getting the majority of our marital assets?" "Ms. Carter, I can't guarantee anything, but I will do everything in my power to build a strong case," the lawyer replied. I nodded. When I stepped out of the law office, the overcast morning sky had cleared up. As I was about to hail a cab, I saw Ethan leaning against his car across the street, watching me. The ground around his feet was littered with cigarette butts. I walked over in silence and stood before him. "Chloe." His voice was hoarse. "I want an explanation. If you give me one, I'll believe you." I looked up, my face entirely calm. "An explanation for what?" "Why are you pushing for a real divorce? And why are you hiring a lawyer to take all my assets?" I blinked, suddenly remembering that Ethan had a friend who worked in this building. He must have heard about it. But there was nothing to hide anymore. "I need a lot of money." Ethan let out a bitter laugh. "And why is that?" My voice remained flat. "Because I'm dying." Ethan froze, and then a wave of pure fury took over his expression. "Chloe Carter! Are you seriously making up a terminal illness just to compete with Brooke for attention?" "Have I spoiled you so much over the years that you think you can lie about something like this?" I gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. My voice was still quiet, steady. "Ethan, I'm telling the truth." "If I die, will you bring me some flowers?" Ethan's lips twisted into a sneer. He looked at me with a look of utter disgust and took a step back. "Never!" He got into his car and sped off, my reflection growing smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror. After a long moment, I whispered to myself, "Okay." It was probably for the best. In our next life, we wouldn't have any ties left. Summoning the last of my strength, I opened my Snapchat conversation with Ethan. I clicked on his profile, and blocked him. "Ethan, goodbye forever." When I got home, I started packing. I didn't have much to take. I planned to list everything of value on eBay. By the time I finished packing, it was already past midnight. I stared at my wedding ring for a long time before sliding it off. I dropped it into the box of things to be sold. Then, I booked a one-way flight back to my hometown. For my final days, I wanted to spend them with my parents. The gravel roads of my quiet hometown in Vermont hadn't changed at all. As I got out of the taxi with my suitcase, I looked up and saw my parents waiting at the end of the driveway, looking around anxiously. My eyes welled with tears instantly. I used to think life in a small town was too slow, but now that my time was running out, I realized how much I had missed. I stayed with my parents for a month. I grew thinner by the day, unable to keep any food down. I knew my time was almost up. Wrapped in my parents' tearful embrace, I used the last of my strength to hug them back. "Mom, Dad... I'm going to find Grandpa now." "If there's a next life, I want to be your daughter again." With those words, I slowly closed my eyes, and a single tear slipped down my cheek. The world went completely silent.