In the yard filled with the fragrance of roses, Algerone stood with hands behind his back, dressed in a suit. He held a small square box in his palm, unable to contain his excitement, and looked at the car with a smile on his face.
At this moment, he felt somewhat similar to his younger self entering the realm of marriage for the first time-anticipating, nervous, and a little unsure.
The people around him were also happy for him, each wearing a joyful smile.
"Mom, they're here," Tom Fritz said in a gentle voice. He felt that it was meaningful to witness such a special proposal.
Jane, wearing a cheongsam, bent slightly, holding a rose in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other, as she looked up at the car.
Memories flooded into her mind like a tide, and she smiled as she said, "More than twenty years ago, it was me standing in the yard with Belinda, waiting. Algerone was late because of something."
"On such an important day, being late, was Belinda angry?"
"Guess."
"She must have been angry, right? Even if she didn't say it out loud, she must have been unhappy in her heart," Tom Fritz knew that women's thoughts were delicate.
Listening to her son's analysis, Jane stood up. While she wrapped the roses in her hand, she said, "Yes, Belinda, with her temper, didn't say much at the time. She greeted everyone with a smile and completed all the wedding ceremonies. Later, I found out that she locked Algerone out that night."
Looking back now, everyone would consider that behavior a bit childish.
Under the expectant gazes of everyone, the car approached.
The car window opened, and Belinda caught a whiff of the fragrance of roses. She looked intently into the yard and saw vast patches of Damascus roses and bourbon roses intertwined, blooming in competition with each other, swaying in the wind.
The colors of the flowers changed from deep to light, each cluster more beautiful than the last, like a painting.
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