There, staring back at me, was a photo of a lavish bouquet of red roses alongside a smaller bouquet of delicate white jasmine.
Her caption read: [Red roses are so tacky. When he saw I didn’t like them, he bought me jasmine to make me happy!]
I instantly recognized the roses. They were the very same ones Colin had brought to me.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place—Colin had given me the flowers that Siena had rejected.
A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I scrolled down to see Colin’s comment beneath her post:
[Jasmine for you, my wish is that you never leave.]
The comment section was filled with a stream of supportive messages from his friends, offering their congratulations and blessings.
I stared at the screen, stunned.
Colin’s friends had always disliked me, thinking I was the one who had come between him and Siena. They believed I was the third party in their story.
But they couldn’t have been more wrong.
I had been with Colin for ten years—married to him for seven. It was Siena who had reappeared out of nowhere and inserted herself back into his life.
Our marriage had been happy—almost perfect—until Siena returned from abroad.