If Your Heart Doesn’t Lean Towards Me I Don’t Want It Chapter 38
In the third year of our marriage, I was promoted to department head.
My mother’s health had also recovered completely. On sunny days, she would come over to help me tend the flowers on our balcony.
The hydrangea, once a pot of bare branches, now bloomed vibrantly every year.
That evening when I got home from work, my mother was trimming a yellowing leaf with a pair of small shears.
When she saw me, she pointed to the highest bloom.
“Coralie, look. Another one opened.”
I walked over and looked at the plant.
Water droplets clung to the pale blue petals, swaying in the evening breeze.
Lucian stuck his head out from the kitchen.
“Go wash your hands. Dinner’s almost ready.”
My mother laughed and called back, “Got it, Chef Lucian.”
I took the shears from her to put them away when my phone chimed.
It was the annual project confirmation email from my company.
The employee privacy protection policy I had helped create was now officially active across all branches.
At the end of the email was a single line.
Being a victim is not a stain. And silence is not the price of employment.
I looked at it for a long time before hitting confirm.
Lucian came out onto the balcony and draped a light jacket over my shoulders.
“What are you thinking about?”
Many years ago, he had asked me the same question.
I looked at the flowers blooming in front of me and smiled, shaking my head.
“Nothing.”
“I was just thinking that warmth is important, of course.”
I reached out and gently cupped a bloom in my palm, not picking it.
“But a flower grows back because it never stops growing on its own.”
Lucian didn’t argue.
He took my hand, and we stood together, watching the sunset for a while.
Inside, my mother was calling us in for dinner.
Lights were coming on in the houses around us.
I turned and walked back into the home that was mine.
Every step from now on would be my own.
The End