Loading promotion info...
The Rose That Withered in the Desert
NovelShort
Completed
My husband, Patrick Walker, was a desert expedition leader. Every time a trip ended, he'd bring me back a pink crystal rose, the kind that only grows out at Devil's Flats. In three years of marriage, he brought me eighty-nine of them. I said, smiling, "Once we've saved up ninety-nine, let's have a baby." But starting with his ninetieth expedition, he stopped bringing anything home.
Chapters (4)
第1章
My husband, Patrick Walker, was a desert expedition leader.
Every time a trip ended, he brought me back a rose quartz rose, the kind that only grows out at Devil's Flats.
Three years of marriage, and he'd brought me eighty-nine of them in all.
I told him, smiling, "Once we've saved up ninety-nine, let's have a baby."
I never expected that on his ninetieth expedition, he'd come home empty-handed.
Patrick explained, "The terrain at Devil's Flats has shifted. Harvesting the roses is too dangerous now."
I nodded, telling him I understood. Romance meant nothing to me next to his life.
But then, on his hundredth expedition, I saw one of his regulars post on social media:
"Captain Walker said only the purest rose quartz roses in the desert are good enough for me, so he braved the danger to gather a full hundred for me."
I stood there staring at those dreamy, beautiful roses. Then I opened my box and found that mine had long since been swapped out for cheap plastic ones.
The tears dropped. I lifted my hand and wiped them away.
If love had gone bad, then I would cut it loose.
...
"I was only joking when I said I wanted a hundred-something rose quartz roses. I never thought Captain Walker would take it to heart. He went looking even with his leg hurt, worked himself to the bone to make up the count."
Diana Mason had posted another update.
The tone was complaining. The attitude was showing off.
The comments underneath were all envy:
"So spoiled! I'm so jealous of you, Didi."
"Too dreamy. If a man put a gift like that in front of me, I'd marry him without a second thought."
"Is this the official announcement? Captain Walker chased you for five years, and he's finally won over his goddess."
...
My eyes locked on those two words, "five years," and it felt like something sharp had dragged across my heart, cutting deep enough to bleed and never stop.
Patrick and I met on a desert expedition. I'd fought with my family back then and gone off alone to clear my head.
Patrick saw I was down, and the whole way he found ways to cheer me up.
When we passed Devil's Flats, he went out into a storm just to find a rose quartz rose for me.
All because I'd said, offhand, that I wanted to see one.
That was the moment the door to my heart came open.
I thought, a man who would risk his life for me like that had to be steady and sincere.
When the trip ended, I was the one who proposed. We held a desert wedding, and under a sky full of stars, with the shifting sands as our witness, we became husband and wife.
To take care of him, I moved into the little town on the edge of the desert.
Even though the climate never agreed with me, even though I got sick every few days, I never once wavered.
Because I was certain Patrick loved me. The rose quartz roses he brought back after every trip were the proof.
I never imagined I was only Patrick's practice run at winning the woman he really wanted.
Something for him to rehearse his romance on.
I moved my stiff fingers, and after a good few dozen seconds, I left a comment under Diana Mason's post: "Congratulations."
The moment I sent it, Patrick's call came through, urgent.
He'd barely connected before he was snapping at me. "Luna Chavez, what are you playing at? Miss Mason and I are just ordinary acquaintances. Delete that comment right now!"
Quietly swapping out the roses meant for me, gathering a full hundred to give to her, and that counted as ordinary acquaintances?
The tears kept falling, but I couldn't stop myself from tipping my head back and laughing, a hollow, empty sound.
"Bring every one of those roses back to me and I'll believe you."
"Luna, are you ever going to let this go? You're getting worked up over a few rocks? Haven't I given you enough? Delete the comment and apologize to Miss Mason publicly on your feed, or else—"
"Or else what?"
"We only held a ceremony. We never registered. If you don't do it, you can forget about ever getting that marriage certificate as long as you live!"
Something in me went cold.
After the wedding I'd pushed him more than once to go register. He always put it off with one excuse or another.
Later I couldn't stand it and threatened to leave if he wouldn't. Patrick held me and said, "Luna, a piece of paper doesn't prove anything. As long as my heart never changes, we'll always be husband and wife."
I still wouldn't agree, and only then did he plead with me. "All right, all right, just give me a few more years of work. I don't want you marrying me with nothing to your name. That's not fair to you. Let me save up more, buy the jewelry, buy a house. Whatever other brides get, I'll arrange all of it for you."
He seemed so sincere that I gave in.
I never thought that not registering would become his reason to look down on me.
The tears came harder, until I could barely stay on my feet. I gripped the phone tight and said, "Thank you for the reminder."
The phone slipped from my hand. I didn't reach for it, didn't answer Patrick's frantic "hello, hello, hello." I turned and started packing my things.
第2章
Before Patrick got married, his life was simple.
A tent, a backpack that held all his toiletries and two changes of clothes.
After we married, with all my fussing and arranging, we had a home.
The cream-colored walls, I painted them myself, section by section, in the blazing heat.
A wooden table someone had thrown out, I sanded and lacquered it by hand into a pretty blue-green.
The wardrobe, the couch, the desk, the bed, even the pots and pans in the kitchen, I gathered all of it piece by piece, like an ant hauling its home together.
Did any of this belong to Patrick?
No.
It belonged to me.
But I couldn't take pieces this big with me when I left.
So I dragged everything I could move out to the front door and put it up for sale, dirt cheap.
A neighbor came over, testing the waters, and picked up my favorite handmade clay vase.
"Five bucks."
I said it calmly.
"Luna, you're really selling it? All of this, all of it, you don't want any of it?"
The neighbors were desert locals. Patrick never wanted me mixing with them, but I loved hearing their stories about the desert, so whenever he was out leading an expedition I'd go looking for their company.
That vase, this neighbor had asked me for it more than once, offering to trade me meat for it.
But I'd molded it with my own hands for Patrick, and I could never bear to part with it, no matter the price.
Now, though, the feeling behind it was gone, and it was worth five dollars.
She dropped five dollars, scooped up the vase, and walked off.
When she'd gotten a good distance away and saw I wasn't chasing her or changing my mind, she set the vase down and called over every friend and relative she knew.
They crowded in front of my door, picking through everything.
Patrick came home while I was selling the big double bed.
That bed had been a real ordeal to make, board by board saved up and then pieced together by a carpenter.
Big and solid. Patrick had patted it once, satisfied, and said, "Luna, we're going to have three kids someday. The little ones sleep on this side, and I'll sleep on the edge."
"Who said I'd ever have your kids." I muttered it, but I couldn't stop the sweetness swelling in my chest.
Who would have guessed how much would change while the things stayed the same.
The tears came again before I could help it.
A relative the neighbor had brought was picking at flaws, getting ready to haggle me down. When he saw the tears, he flung the cash into my arms and called his brothers over to haul the bed away.
"We agreed you'd sell it, Luna. No backing out now."
I wiped my eyes and was about to shake my head when I saw Patrick standing a little way off, staring at the front of the house, stunned.
When his eyes met mine, he was furious.
"Luna, you really have let me down!"
"It's just a few rose quartz roses. It's not like you don't have any. And here you are throwing a fit, chucking things out."
"You think this will make me back down? No. This makes me sick of you!"
"A woman crying, carrying on, threatening to hang herself. When someone else does it, it's cute. When you do it, it's just cheap!"
One line after another came out of Patrick's mouth, each one cutting.
I listened, numb, and only when he'd finished did I say, "This isn't a fit."
"I've decided to leave you."
"Hah." Patrick sneered. "Luna, I've been too good to you all these years. Spoiled you into acting like some princess."
"Diana's birthday is tonight. You trashed her name on social media, so tonight you'll go there, grovel, and apologize. If Diana forgives you, I'll keep living with you. Otherwise…"
Patrick didn't finish, but the threat was clear enough. Otherwise, he'd dump me.
He left me there and went inside, and before long he shouted, "Luna!"
The neighbor and her friends and relatives were craning their necks to watch the show. I didn't want to become anyone's gossip, so I went in.
Patrick looked put out. "Where's the cash we keep in the house?"
"It's Diana's birthday, and she wants a necklace. I went and looked. It's twenty-five thousand at the counter. Hurry up and get the money out. Any later and someone else will have it reserved!"
第3章
Patrick threw the order at me like it was owed to him.
When I didn't move fast enough, his face turned ugly and he shoved my shoulder, hard.
"Luna, I'm trying to fix this for you!"
"If it weren't for me putting in a good word, Diana wouldn't even give you the chance to grovel and apologize! Don't be so ungrateful!"
"Apologize? For what? Is it a crime to wish her a happy birthday?"
"Of course it is! You're dragging Diana's name through the mud!"
"Fine. I'll apologize. But you take back the hundred rose quartz roses. You take them back, and I'll believe there's nothing between you two."
I watched his face, testing him.
Patrick shot me a look, impatient and full of resentment. "Luna, when did you turn into this? Clinging to some petty little nothing."
"Three years of marriage, and I brought you all those rose quartz roses. You didn't even want them. You just packed them away in a box. Diana likes them, so I gave them to her. What's the problem?"
"Can't you act like an adult? You're making it impossible for me to hold my head up in front of the crew."
He was talking to me and looking at his phone at the same time.
I followed his eyes and only then saw that he had a video call running.
On the other end of the screen were several people from the expedition-leader crew. And Diana.
They were watching me and Patrick square off like it was theater.
When they saw I'd noticed them, no one flinched. They just grinned and called out to me. "Hey, his wife, we've got a bet going with Captain Walker here. We're saying he's whipped."
"Don't you dare go soft on us. Don't let him off the hook."
"The stakes are, whoever wins gets a kiss from Diana."
The blood in my veins ran backward.
So that was it.
So that was the real reason Patrick had to have the money, the real reason he was forcing me to my knees to apologize.
He was doing it for one kiss from Diana.
Held up against that, I looked so worthless. So cheap.
I closed my eyes and forced the tears back.
Then, slowly, I opened them. "I don't care what you want the money for. But Patrick, I gave you three years. I ate the hard days with you, suffered right beside you. Every cent of your savings goes to me. I've earned it."
Patrick didn't want to lose face in front of Diana. He said impatiently, "Fine, fine, it's all yours. Just get it out for me. Call it a loan, okay? I really need it right now."
"Go borrow it from someone else. I'm leaving. After this, we're done."
"You mean that?" For the first time, Patrick actually looked at me.
I nodded.
He frowned, about to say something, when Diana's voice came through his phone. "It's fine, Captain Walker. I didn't take Luna's little misunderstanding to heart. Don't make her apologize."
"Otherwise you'll be fighting over me, and it makes me look like I make a fuss about everything."
"Come back already. The cake's here. The party won't be any fun without you."
"Luna, it's my birthday today, so I'm the one who calls the shots. Just lend Captain Walker to me for one night, okay? He can come home and make it up to you tomorrow."
第4章
Diana was all breezy confidence, playing the tough one, one of the guys.
Patrick's face eased. He looked at the screen on his phone with a longing, worshipful glance, then turned to me and said impatiently, "Luna, you heard everything Diana said?"
"Forget the in-person apology, but the public one on social media, that has to happen."
"Tonight, you stay home and think hard about what you did."
"I'm heading out."
In the end Patrick still took the jewelry I'd packed up, my jewelry, planning to sell it secondhand for cash.
At the door he stopped and looked back.
"Luna, throw your tantrum, but know when to stop."
"You've stripped the place bare. It doesn't even feel lived in anymore."
"Go get everything back."
"Be good."
"Diana's my friend. You're my wife."
It was rare for Patrick to say something that nice.
Too bad my heart was already numb, dead as cold ash. Not a ripple.
I watched his back disappear, and then I cleared out everything in the apartment I could, went to the landlord to cancel the lease, and changed the locks.
Then I shouldered my little backpack and got on the train home.
The next morning the train pulled into Ridgeport, my hometown.
I reached for my phone and found it dead.
No way to call my family ahead of time. I hesitated, then decided to just go straight home.
Heart in my throat, I knocked. It was my father who opened the door.
The moment he saw me, he clearly froze, then turned and walked away.
I thought my parents still couldn't forgive me for the way I'd dug my heels in back then, staying in the desert to marry Patrick. Tears spilled down my cheeks.
I'd lost the home I had with Patrick. Was I about to lose my parents' home too?
I couldn't blame anyone. This was what I deserved.
Swallowing the sting in my chest, I turned to leave, ready to go find somewhere, anywhere, to stay.
Then my mother came out with my father.
"Luna?"
Her voice shook. She came right up to me, touched my face with her hands to make sure I was really there, and then she just pulled me into her arms.
"You're back? You're back, that's all that matters. You're back."
Home was warm.
My bedroom had been kept exactly the way I'd left it, and the table was covered with every dish I loved.
My father was a man of few words, but he kept piling food into my bowl.
My mother couldn't stop looking at me, saying "You've lost weight," "You look worn out." She wanted to ask how things had been in the desert but was afraid I wouldn't want to hear it, afraid to open her mouth.
Watching how carefully my parents moved around me, my nose stung.
How stupid had I been back then, to think Patrick was better than my own family, more worth it?
I told them myself. "Patrick and I broke up. I'm not going back."
"Good. Good."
My mother cried, overcome, and my father lifted his bowl to hide his face, but when he set it down I saw how red his eyes were.
"You've been on the train all night, you must be exhausted. Go rest in your room."
After we ate, my parents flat-out refused to let me do any chores.
So I went back to my bedroom, remembered my phone was dead, dug out the charger, and plugged it in.
The second it powered on, Patrick's call came through.
I frowned. This number needed to go.
I swiped to answer.
"Luna, I got drunk last night and I feel awful. Make a pot of ginger rice porridge and bring it over."
"Oh, and Diana says the pickles you make are good. Bring a bowl of those too."
"Hurry up."
"Don't keep us waiting."
Patrick ordered me around like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Calmly, I said, "I'm not cooking for you anymore. We've broken up. There's nothing between us."
"Luna, I really feel terrible. Can you not pick this moment to fight with me?"
Listening to him complain, I hung up on him this time, pulled out the SIM card, and snapped it in two.
...
The desert.
The hotel room where Diana was staying.
Patrick stared at the dead phone for a moment.
Then he shot to his feet and raced home like a madman.