The Bouquet That Was Never Sent

On the day the university entrance exams ended, I ran out of school with the crowd. Amid the sea of laughing faces, I spotted my parents’ backs almost immediately. I was about to wave at them, my heart brimming with joy, when I realized they were gathered around my best friend, Lydia, chatting and laughing. My boyfriend, Jerome, stood beside her, holding a bouquet of flowers, his cheeks flushed. My phone vibrated incessantly. In a group chat named ‘Race to the Exam,’ my parents had already worked out every detail of their plans to celebrate the end of Lydia’s exams. There were over a hundred messages, yet not once had anyone mentioned my name. The next moment, my mother turned around and spotted me standing behind them. Her gaze fell on the chat history displayed on my phone. A flicker of guilt flashed across her eyes. “Diana, you know what Lydia’s been through. We’re going to take her out to celebrate first. Once we get home, we’ll throw you an even bigger celebration.” The summer sunlight was blinding, and the cheerful chatter around me gradually faded into a muffled blur. By the time I came to my senses, they had already vanished into the crowd. I glanced at the four bouquets I had ordered on my phone and canceled the delivery without hesitation. As I watched everyone around me laugh and celebrate, I gave a bitter, self-mocking smile. It was fine. After all, I was about to leave this place behind and chase a future of my own. Chapter 1 My phone continued to vibrate. In the family group chat, my parents had filled the entire screen with a lengthy post celebrating Lydia’s completion of the university entrance exams. Beneath it was an endless stream of congratulatory messages. The lively atmosphere in the group made my hands and feet go numb. I wanted to join in, but I soon realized there was no way for me to get a word in. I typed and deleted my message over and over again. In the end, all I managed to send was a single reply. [Congrats.] The moment my message went through, the group fell silent. It was as though all that liveliness had been nothing but my imagination. Every time I tried to join a conversation, this was how it ended. I had long since grown used to it. I put my phone away, turned around, and headed back to the flower shop. The owner looked at me with some surprise. Plenty of students and parents had come to order flowers before the university entrance exams ended. However, someone who ordered four bouquets, one of them roses, was bound to leave an impression. I paid no attention to her curious gaze. Instead, I smiled. “Hello. I’d like a bouquet of sunflowers, please.” The woman came back to herself and handed me a bouquet of sunflowers in full bloom. As she passed them to me, she smiled gently. “Sweetheart, may your future be bright and full of promise.” I froze for a moment. I had imagined that the first congratulations I received after the exams would come from Jerome and Lydia, perhaps from my parents too. I never expected the first words of blessing to come from someone I barely knew. I smiled as I accepted the flowers. “Thank you for your kind wishes.” Holding the bouquet, I made my way home. I rang the doorbell three times. No one answered. I tried the keypad lock four times. Every attempt failed. Sweat soaked through my shirt, and the sticky, clammy feeling made it hard to breathe. A notification appeared on my phone. In my parents’ latest social media post, Lydia sat in a brightly lit restaurant, her face glowing with a radiant smile. Jerome sat beside her, holding a bouquet of Black Knight roses. His gaze was fixed on Lydia, filled with indulgence and pride. On the table before them sat a cake celebrating the end of her university entrance exams. The cake bore Lydia’s name. There was no cake and no place for me at that table. Still, it was the caption beneath the photo that stung the most. My parents had put the word daughter in quotation marks. I tapped the like button, then closed the app. I studied the door lock for a moment before decisively entering Lydia’s birthday. The lock clicked. The golden afternoon sunlight spilled across the living room, bathing the entire house in warm hues. I stood in the middle of the living room, yet a layer of frost had settled over my heart. Another notification appeared on my phone. I opened it instinctively. It was a report from the hospital. There were no other new messages. In my unread messages sat a mass text wishing everyone good luck on their university entrance exams. I crouched down and slowly saved the message to my favorites. My phone screen flashed. It was the only call my mother had made since the exams ended. “Mom, if Lydia…” The voice on the other end cut me off. Chapter 2 “Diana, there’s food in the kitchen. Fix yourself something to eat. You took too long, so we didn’t wait for you. Don’t be upset. You’re our good girl, remember?” Before I could respond, the call ended. I swallowed the rest of my words as I listened to the dial tone. ‘You’re our good girl.’ Those words had become a familiar refrain ever since Lydia moved in next door. I was still in kindergarten when it all began. One day, I found Lydia crouching outside her front door, reluctant to go home. After talking with her for a while, I learned that she came from a single-parent family. Her mother was always busy with work and had little time to look after her, so I invited her over to our house. Mom was surprised to see her at first. However, after hearing Lydia’s story at the dinner table, her eyes softened with affection. “Poor sweetheart. You can come over to our house for dinner from now on.” From that day forward, Lydia became a regular guest in our home. She was lively and outgoing, always managing to bring smiles to my parents’ faces at the dinner table. Mom would constantly pile the best dishes onto Lydia’s plate. Sometimes, I wanted some, too. Whenever that happened, Mom would simply smile and pat me on the head. “Diana is such a good girl. Why don’t you let Lydia have some?” Every time she said that, I would quietly pull back my spoon. It made me feel uncomfortable, but back then, I was too young to understand what favoritism meant. All I knew was that if I did as Mom said, she would be happy and I would not get scolded. Little by little, those words became more and more common in our household. It was as though the words had seeped into my very bloodstream. Under the soothing spell of being called a good girl, I gradually gave away everything that was mine. Looking back now, I realized I had nothing left. I returned to my bedroom, which had been converted from a tiny tea room. There was a narrow bed and a folding table. That was all. I used to have a bedroom of my own. However, Lydia often stayed overnight at our house, and one day, she said she did not like sharing a room with anyone. Just like that, my bedroom became hers. Back then, I cried and threw tantrums. In the end, all I got for it was Mom throwing my beloved LEGO set out the front door. I knelt on the floor, heartbroken, trying to piece the scattered bricks back together. Mom only scolded me, “Lydia already has it hard enough without a mother to keep her company. Do you have to bully her, too?” I never wanted to bully her. I looked at Mom, and then at the front door, which had been firmly shut in my face. For the first time, I swallowed my words instead of letting them out. I was seven that year. It was only after I had swept up every last LEGO piece scattered throughout the hallway and apologized to Lydia that Mom finally allowed me back inside. From that day on, I grew quieter at home. Mom would often look at me and heave a sigh. “This child used to be so lively when she was little. How did she end up like this?” Sitting on my narrow bed, I examined my room for the first time. The paint was peeling from the walls, and the wallpaper was faded and mottled. The room was stuffier and more unbearably hot than the living room, where sunlight could never reach. For eleven years, I had been living like this in my own home. I found a plastic basin and placed the sunflowers inside. After arranging the bouquet, I set it by the window. Then I took out my phone and began checking my answers to the university entrance exams. I covered a sheet of paper with marks and calculations. My estimated score was 701 points. A score like that was enough to get me into virtually any top university in the country. I stared at the number on the page and let out a long breath. On the day my years of hard work finally came to an end, no one was cheering for how far I had come. No one cared about the future that lay ahead of me. Every single one of them was lost in their own little world of warmth and happiness. Perhaps that was for the best. At least no one would stand in the way of the future I wanted. Chapter 3 The sound of the door unlocking came from outside. Lydia’s laughter soon filled the living room, followed by my father’s hearty chuckle. Their laughter drifted through the crack beneath my door, making it feel as though two entirely different worlds existed under the same roof. Lydia sat on the couch, affectionately linking her arm through Mom’s. “Mr. and Mrs. Kensington, thank you for celebrating the end of the college entrance exams with me. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you by my side…” Jerome reached over and took her hand where it rested on the couch. His voice was gentle. “It’s okay. I’ll always be here for you, too.” Lydia blushed shyly before throwing herself into his arms. “Oh, I’ve always thought you two were made for each other. A perfect match since childhood. And now, you’ve finally found your way to each other.” I instinctively looked at Jerome, hoping he would offer some explanation. However, he merely smiled, never saying a word. Nestled in his arms, Lydia beamed like a flower in full bloom. “I should really thank Diana for being our cover story.” Jerome lifted his head nonchalantly as a teasing glint crossed his eyes. “Oh, that teacher who watched everyone like a hawk was ridiculously strict about students dating. That’s the only reason I confessed to you back in high school. You didn’t actually take it seriously, did you?” My heart missed a beat. I’d met Jerome in middle school. By then, I had begun to understand what favoritism really meant. I told him everything that had happened to me. When he heard my story, his eyes had reddened. He told me that what I was doing was not being well-behaved. “If something belongs to you, you shouldn’t have to give it up for someone else.” It was the first time anyone had ever said those words to me. The first time anyone had told me that I did not always have to give way. He had stood so firmly on my side, so I welcomed him into the little circle shared by Lydia and me. I thought he would never take sides unfairly. Mom watched them, unable to hide the delight in her eyes. “Now that you kids have graduated, you can finally relax and enjoy yourselves.” “I’ve already booked the plane tickets to Bayshore. We’re going to make sure Lydia has a wonderful trip.” Only after saying all that did Mom seem to remember me. She glanced in my direction, her eyes darting away uneasily. “Diana, is there anywhere you’d like to visit?” I met her gaze and gently shook my head. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The truth was, I’d already told Jerome about my graduation trip plans. I wanted to visit Lake Haven. However, when I looked at them now, I realized no one wanted to hear where I wished to go. When I remained silent, Lydia smiled and held out a cup of mango pomelo sago. “Sorry, Diana. Everyone was so busy planning my trip just now that we forgot about you. Please don’t overthink it, okay?” I looked at the drink in her hand, then pushed it away. The moment she realized I was not taking it, Lydia’s eyes immediately filled with wounded tears. Jerome forcefully shoved the drink into my arms without even looking at me. “This stuff is expensive, Diana. Don’t be so ungrateful.” I took a step back. The glass bottle slipped from my hands and shattered across the floor. Milk tea splashed onto my clothes, filling the air with an overpowering sweetness. Jerome immediately pulled Lydia protectively into his arms. “Diana, you’ve been giving us attitude ever since the exams ended. Keep acting like this and you’ll only make us dislike you even more!” Jerome knew perfectly well that I was allergic to mangoes, but he seemed to have conveniently forgotten this. I realized then that this was no longer the kind of love I wanted. When I refused to respond, Jerome seemed even more infuriated. “Lydia, let’s go. Don’t waste your time on her.” Seeing my stained clothes, Mom immediately knitted her brows together. “You’re old enough to know better. How can you not even keep your clothes clean? If you don’t want to go, then stay home and think about what you’ve done.” I said nothing. I simply turned and went back to my room to change. Through the crack in the door, I heard Dad letting out a sigh. “This girl gets more disobedient with every passing year. She isn't half as sensible as Lydia.” Sensible? In silence, I placed my stained clothes in the washbasin in the bathroom. My clothes were not allowed to be washed together with Lydia’s. “Lydia has been doing her own laundry since she was little. You should learn a thing or two from her.” From that day on, Mom never washed my clothes again. As my stained clothes soaked in the basin, I turned on my computer. Sitting quietly in my inbox was an invitation to the summer camp for the geology program at Summit Lake University. I opened it and clicked accept. Then I booked my plane ticket. Ten minutes later, I stared at the ticket for the following afternoon, departing at three o’clock, then slowly closed my eyes. This time, I was done being the good girl who always put everyone else first. Chapter 4 The next morning, I was jolted awake by the commotion in the living room. Several large suitcases had been laid out across the floor. My parents were busy packing things into them. “Lydia, it gets hot overseas. Make sure you protect yourself from the sun while you’re out.” “All right, Mrs. Kensington.” With an ice cream in hand, Lydia stood to the side, smiling from ear to ear. I was just about to return to my room when a basketful of clothes was shoved into my hands. “Stop standing around daydreaming. Help pack these for Lydia.” I set the basket down on the floor. Jerome frowned and asked, “I only asked you to help pack her clothes. What’s with that attitude?” I met his gaze coldly and gave him a faint smile. “Aren’t you worried something might happen to the things I pack?” Jerome’s eyes narrowed at that. “What kind of trick are you trying to pull now?” I shook my head with a bitter smile. What trick? It was just that, once upon a time, I had given Lydia a hair tie as a gift. She later accused me of coating it with flower nectar, claiming it had triggered her allergies. Ever since then, Jerome had refused to let me touch any of Lydia’s belongings. Mom picked up the basket I had set on the floor. “Enough. Stop crowding around here. You’re no help at all. All you do is make trouble.” The truth was, I had once wanted to help. Whether it was fetching documents or cleaning the house, I had always been the most eager to lend a hand. Back then, I was still young. I thought that if I did enough, Mom would eventually notice me. If she noticed me, she would still love me. At first, it actually worked. However, after a few times, her gaze stopped falling on me altogether. Eventually, something resembling disgust even began to creep into her eyes. Despite that, I continued throwing myself into every household chore with the same enthusiasm. Then one day, Mom stood in the spotless living room I had just cleaned with a gloomy expression. “You’re doing all this over such trivial things just to show off and make Lydia look bad. Diana, you’re so manipulative.” After that day, I never volunteered to do another chore. No matter what I did, it would always be twisted into evidence that I was fishing for praise. I let out a quiet sigh as I watched my parents bustle about. I was turning to return to my room when Lydia caught me by the arm. She looked at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Diana, are you still upset about the trip? I’ll talk to your mom and dad. I’m sure they’ll agree to take you with us.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the discomfort rising inside me. They were my parents, yet I needed an outsider to plead on my behalf just to be included in a family vacation. After hearing Lydia’s words, Mom affectionately stroked her head. “You really are the kindest girl. Someone like her doesn’t deserve to travel with you.” When she looked up at me, her gaze turned cold again. “We’ll take you somewhere after we get back. There’s no need to rush. Will you not be satisfied until you’ve made everyone miserable?” I looked at Mom as a wave of bitterness rose in my chest. My fingers dug into the flesh at the base of my thumb, the pain helping to conceal the sorrow in my eyes. “Mrs. Kensington, please don’t say that about Diana.” Lydia’s tearful voice rose at just the right moment from the comfort of Mom’s embrace. Mom heaved a sigh. “You’re going to stay home and reflect on your behavior for the next few days. We’ll talk about everything else when we get back.” My clenched fist slowly loosened. There was no point defending myself anymore. I nodded and returned to my room. Looking at the plane ticket on my phone, I released a long, weary breath. Just a little longer. Soon, I would finally escape this cage. I got up and rummaged through a corner of my room until I found a gift box. Inside, I placed a copy of my admission letter for Summit Lake University’s summer camp, along with the report from the hospital. I also slipped in the bank transfer records. By the time I had finished preparing everything, the living room had already fallen quiet. I left no note and no explanation. After placing the gift box in the most conspicuous spot in the living room, I pulled my suitcase behind me and took one last look at the room I had lived in for eleven years. It was shabby, cramped and insignificant, just like I had been in this family. I smiled faintly and climbed into the cab bound for the airport, not looking back even once. By the time I arrived, messages were still flooding the group chat. Lydia was excitedly recording videos. In one of them, Mom smiled tenderly as she fed Lydia the sushi she made. Beside her, Jerome gently wiped a smear of sauce from the corner of Lydia’s mouth. The four of them looked like one big, happy family. I was nowhere to be seen. Beneath the video, Jerome tagged me in a message. “Mr. and Mrs. Kensington said that if you’re willing to apologize, we’ll reluctantly agree to let you come with us.” They might consider it. What a laughable choice of words. I smiled and muted the group chat. Then I turned around and boarded my flight to Lake Haven.