Late at night, Rosalynn sent a lengthy voice message to her daughter, who had long been asleep. She promised to return home with a gift the next day.
After sending the message, she placed her phone aside and nestled her head into the pillow, feeling both satiated and exhausted.
She felt a bit warm from the evening's activities, and the air conditioning was set a tad too low. Wayne went to adjust it, returning with a warmer setting. He then enveloped Rosalynn from behind like a koala clinging to a tree, resting his weight on her.
Rosalynn was too languid to move, her gaze fixed on the rain that continued to patter against the large window outside.
"Grandma always loved big windows," Rosalynn suddenly said. "Back in the day, no one around here had these floor-to-ceiling windows like we do now. She told me that before I was born, she planted a gardenia opposite the window of the room she was preparing for me. When the gardenias bloomed, I loved to fling open the window and sit under the eaves all day long."
Wayne gently kissed Rosalynn's shoulder and neck, whispering, "Next holiday, we'll bring the kids to stay here."d2
He knew she was missing her grandmother. A wave of guilt spread through him. If he had recognized his feelings for Rosalynn sooner, he could have been by her side when her grandmother passed away.
The gardenia in the yard had grown into a large bush. Many years ago, after she and her grandmother had left L City for H City, the gardenia had mysteriously fallen ill, losing all its leaves and rotting at the roots.
When they returned to see it, both had thought the gardenia wouldn't survive, but neither had the heart to dig it up and throw it away.
So it remained in the yard of their home, treated like a dead tree for many years.
Until the spring when her grandmother died.
After Rosalynn signed her grandmother's death certificate, she came back home, despondent, only to find new tender green leaves sprouting from the gardenia in the morning light.
She told Wayne about it, her lips quivering, her voice catching, "I think she was still worried about me when she left, so she made this flower, which came into the world because of my birth, come back to life."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Secret Heir Return To Wealth And Love
Yet another garbled story! I'd rather pay to read than read such rubbish! Gosh ill even proof read for free for you before you publish your garbled mess!...