Chapter 8
“Fellow students, I stood here when I was twenty, performing for the New Year’s gala. That night, I became an instant sensation.
“I remember thinking if I’m this good now, imagine what I’ll be in the future! I believed I would become a world–renowned pianist.”
I paused, then smirked, “But instead, I became a devoted wife and mother, a rose blooming for someone else.
“Vibrant, lush, beautiful, but only for others to admire.”
A murmur spread through the audience. Some female students whispered among themselves, “Marriage is a graveyard. If Grace hadn’t got married, she would’ve achieved her dreams long ago.”
Antonio’s expression shifted. He locked eyes with me, unblinking.
He knew exactly what I meant.
I continued, “I spent eighteen years as that rose. Now, I’ll still be a rose, but this time. I bloom for myself.”
With that, I took my seat and began to play.
The hall fell silent, with only the music flowing.
I poured my soul into the piece. This performance meant more to me than even the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition.
In my mind’s eye, I saw roses blooming, not the ones Antonio and I had planted together, but the ones I had grown myself.
When the final note faded, thunderous applause erupted.
I bowed in thanks and strode off the stage, never sparing Antonio a glance.
Troy was waiting for me, holding a bouquet of roses.
I went viral.
The internet was powerful. Someone uploaded a video of my performance, and suddenly, I was everywhere.
Netizens all called me “First Love“.
They said first love transcended age. It was all about feelings.
I watched the video but didn’t feel a thing.
The updo and white dress were not that special.
Eighteen years ago, I had looked like this. And now, I still did.
Out of the blue, Emilia showed up.
She came to congratulate me.
“You are the first love! So beautiful! After Mr. Kaufman came home, he had a huge fight with Irene! He even forbade her from doing an updo or wearing a white dress!”
Emilia was positively gloating.
I was baffled. “Why?”
T
“No idea! But I think Mr. Kaufinan finally came to his senses. You are the real first love. Irene is nothing but a pretentious copycat, a cheap stand-
in!”
She seemed to really dislike that woman.
Why should I care about any of it?
I nodded in acknowledgment and invited Emilia to stay for dinner.
She nearly exploded. “Dinner? No, you should storm back in there, kick Irene out, and take back control!”
I chuckled.
Why would I go back? To be a rose blooming for someone else?
“No thanks. I’m busy planting roses,” I said, rolling up my sleeves and heading to the backyard.
The rose saplings were ready. I must plant them one by one.
Emilia sighed in frustration and stormed off.
I ignored her, focusing on my roses.
Halfway through, someone took the small hoe from my hands.
I turned my head, only to see Antonio standing beside me. He was dressed in a white shirt and holding two straw hats.
He smiled and gently placed one on my head.
“Silly girl, don’t get sunburned.”
Years ago, when we had planted roses together, he had been just like this -wearing a white shirt and holding two straw hats he had fetched from nowhere.
We had cach worn a hat, laughing under the sun and planting roses side by side.
Chapter B
Now, the scene repeated itself as if nothing had changed.
Except… I felt nauseous.
I really wanted to throw up.
head.
I gagged, quickly stepped back, and yanked the hat off my he
Antonio’s smile froze,
He stood there stiffly, taking a moment to compose himself before picking
the hat and forcing another smile.
up
“Grace, I’m sorry.”
He said earnestly, “Your performance shook me to my core. I realized the first love I could never let go of was right in front of me. Compared to you, Irene is a joke.”
He took two steps forward, eyes gleaming. “The moment you stopped caring about me, my life lost its meaning. I didn’t understand why until I saw you play.
“When I saw your updo and your white dress, it was like looking at you from eighteen years ago… You were my first love all along. Irene was nothing but a hollow imitation.”
His gaze was filled with deep affection. “I sent Irene away. Even our son never liked her. Will you come back to me? Will you play for me again?” Play his ass!
I pulled out my phone and called the police.
Antonio wasn’t fazed. Instead, he chuckled indulgently, “Still mad? That’s on me. And on our son too. Just come home. We won’t be apart ever again.”
Chapter B
I ignored him and continued my call.