Five years and his heart's still not in it? I'm out.
I took my time getting ready and stepped out.
Saw Lily's latest post in the elevator: [True love shows up, no matter the hour.]
It was a shot of Aaron cradling their child.
Endless tenderness was shown in his eyes.
I hit "like" almost mechanically.
Then Aaron was on the phone in a flash.
"Come on, Jane, why stir up drama? It's just a post. Can't you just let it slide? How am I supposed to smooth things over when you act like this? You know she's been on edge since the baby."
I laughed off his flurry of questions, "If I'm such a bother, just block me."
His tone hardened, "Stop being so petty, Jane. Jealous of a baby, really?"
No patience left in him—that was clear.
But that's just who he is around Lily.
She's always been his priority.
I responded coldly, "A 30-year-old baby, you mean?"
His voice rose as he cursed, "Jane, that's enough. How many times do I have to explain? You're just cruel."
And with that, he hung up.
As Aaron always says—being the bad guy isn't so bad sometimes.
Aaron popped up at the florist's while I was busy setting up a proposal bouquet.
He hung back by the window, too cool to come inside, just motioning for me to step out.
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."