“Oh, come on. Not already.”
You ripped her plants out.
We needed fresh flowers for the arch.
I explicitly told you that you were not allowed to touch them.
It was MY WEDDING, Vanessa.
Her voice became sharper.
I did what was necessary to make it beautiful.
I stared through the window at the wilting flowers.
You must come back.
“Why?”
“Produce everything.”
Brielle laughed.
What needs to be repaired?
The garden.
It is earth and flowers.
The roses were planted in honor of Grandma’s death anniversary.
So?
