Flowers were never his thing, nor was he thrilled about my little shop—defiance of his wishes post-marriage.
The compromise? Playing along with a ruse that we couldn't have kids.
I agreed, and that got his reluctant nod.
As I approached him, Aaron passed me a bag, saying, "Check this out—Lily and I picked something out for you."
I hesitated to accept it.
Lily, unable to sit still, leaned out from the passenger side with a smirk. "Don't sweat it, Jane. Aaron's just been a lifesaver to us single moms lately."
Aaron gestured for me to take the gift.
As he stepped closer, I noticed a subtle blush on his neck.
And there it was—a lipstick mark on his collar, identical to the one Lily was wearing.
Images of Lily's last message flashed through my mind—Aaron consoling a crying woman in his arms.
I could easily imagine how intimate they were when they were alone.
I stood resolute against the cold wind, quashing any last shred of peace Aaron might have hoped for.
In frustration, he dropped the bag at my feet.
Contents scattered—a purse, identical to the one Lily carried, in my favorite brand but the color I despised.
"No thanks, I don't like it."