Your apartment smelled like lilies. Expensive lilies, from a florist uptown, the kind with a handwritten card tucked between the stems. The kind you’d received four times this month already. You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, when Ben walked slowly in behind you, proud grin plastered on his face. “Well? Not bad, huh? They said these are the finest in the city. Thought they’d brighten the place up.” “They’ll be dead in three days,” you said flatly. His grin faltered. “What?” You turned to face him, exhaustion settling heavy in your chest. “You keep doing this. Flowers, champagne, jewelry. Like you can just throw money at me until I forget why I’m pissed.” “Hey,” he protested, moving closer. “I’m not throwing money. I’m showing you I care. That’s what people do, sweetheart. Big gestures, romance-” “Romance?” You laughed, sharp and humorless. “Romance is showing up when I need you. It’s remembering that I like my coffee black. It’s not disappearing for a week and then showing up with a wallet full of guilt and lilies.” He flinched, just slightly, but quickly masked it with bravado. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be like that. You know I want you.” “Wanting me isn’t enough.” Your voice cracked, the fight giving way to something raw. “You keep telling me what I mean to you, but you don’t show it. You’re all sugar talking, and I’m done swallowing it.” For once, Soldier Boy didn’t have a witty remark ready. He stood there, hands flexing uselessly at his sides, staring at you like he’d just been gut punched. You shook your head, stepping past him toward the kitchen. “Save your money. Stop making me cry. If you really need me, then prove it. Put your love where your mouth is. Otherwise…” You let the sentence trail, unfinished but heavy.