CHAPTER 125: THE MAN WITH THE LILIES

Sylvia’s POV

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Moments Earlier.....

"Good morning, Mom!"

The twins greeted cheerfully the moment they woke up. They immediately wrapped their little arms around my waist, their sleepy faces lighting up with smiles that could melt away even my heaviest worries.

I couldn’t help but hug them back, brushing a hand through their soft hair.

"Did you two sleep well?"

"Yes!" they chimed in unison, their voices full of energy despite just waking up.

"Good," I said, smiling warmly. "Now go wash your faces before breakfast, okay?"

They nodded eagerly and dashed toward the bathroom, giggling all the way. Watching them, I felt a quiet sense of peace settle over me, even just for a moment.

It was another day—another chance to keep my promise to Cairo that I’d visit him again today.

Now, I was cooking chicken soup, just like he’d asked me to. This time, I hope he’ll actually like it.

I turned back to the kitchen and tied my hair into a loose ponytail before starting on the fried chicken. The soft sound of laughter and running water from the bathroom filled the house, a simple, ordinary morning.

Until a sudden knock echoed from the front door.

I frowned, glancing at the clock. Who could that be this early?

Wiping my hands on a towel, I was about to head to the door when Paris beat me to it.

"Mom, I’ll get it! You just keep cooking!" she said quickly, her little feet pattering toward the entrance.

I let her. Maybe it was just one of our neighbors or Tess dropping by again.

But then I heard Paris’s voice. "What are you doing here, Mister?"

My brows furrowed. That didn’t sound like Tess. I turned off the stove and walked toward the door, only to freeze the moment I saw who it was.

Standing outside, looking completely out of place, was Rome.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt that looked a bit too formal for this hour, his hair slightly tousled as if he’d gotten ready in a hurry. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers fresh, colorful, and very unexpected lilies.

I blinked in disbelief.

What on earth...

Opening the door halfway, I crossed my arms and stared at him.

"What are you doing here?"

Rome stiffened slightly, the flowers trembling just a bit in his grip. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t even know what he was doing himself.

"Uh..." He cleared his throat, his eyes darting anywhere but at me. "Good morning, S-sylvia... good morning, P-paris.."

Paris tilted her head, still standing by the door with wide, curious eyes. "What are you doing here, Mister? And what are those flowers for?"

I blinked, feeling my jaw tighten as I glanced between the bouquet and Rome’s awkward, sheepish smile.

He coughed lightly. "I, uh... thought I’d drop by and, you know, check how you’re doing. I found these flowers on the way here, so... I brought you some."

"Wow! That’s a beautiful bouquet!" Egypt chimed in as he peeked from behind Paris.

"...But Mom doesn’t like flowers."

My eyes narrowed slightly before stepping forward to block Paris and Egypt from seeing more of Rome. "You brought flowers to check on us? Why would you do that?"

"Well..." he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. ’It sounded better in my head...’

From behind me, I could already hear the twins whispering to each other as they tried to peek past me at the door, but I quickly held them back.

"He’s holding flowers! Is he courting Mom?" Egypt whispered.

"Why would he court Mom? She’s allergic to flowers! She’s just gonna throw them away later!" Paris replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, what a waste. Mom would’ve appreciated it more if he brought food instead.." Egypt added, whispering just a little too loud.

Rome’s ears turned red as he tried to smile politely, clearly hearing every word.

He cleared his throat again, holding out the bouquet a bit awkwardly. "Uh... flowers. For you."

I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temple.

Calm yourself, Sylvia. You have to be patient in front of the kids.

I stared at Rome for a long moment, noticing the faint nervousness creeping into his expression, the way his jaw tensed slightly and how his fingers fidgeted against the flowers.

"What do you think you’re doing, giving that to me?" I asked, my tone colder than I intended.

"Why not just give it to your wife instead?"

I saw his grip on the bouquet loosen, the flowers tilting slightly. It made him pause for a moment.

"Uh..." His voice came out hoarse. He looked down, avoiding my eyes. "She’s... not my wife."

I blinked, taken aback by how quietly he said it. "What?"

He let out a slow breath, lifting his gaze just enough to meet mine. "We’re not together anymore, Sylvia."

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. The words hung in the air between us awkwardly. I could hear the faint sizzling of the pan from the kitchen and the twins’ hushed whispering from behind me—but everything else seemed to fade into silence.

I crossed my arms, trying not to let my expression slip. "That’s not really any of my business, is it?"

Rome nodded slowly. "I know. It’s not." He looked down again, his voice softening. "But I just thought you should know. Because... I don’t want you to think I came here for the wrong reasons."

"Then what are your reasons?" I asked sharply.

He hesitated, his lips parting before pressing them together again, like he was searching for the right words.

"I don’t know... All I know is that when I woke up this morning, the first thing I thought about was you. And before I realized it, I was already here."

I scoffed lightly, trying to ignore the sudden pounding in my chest.

"T-that’s not an excuse, Rome. We’re not close enough for you to just show up here—especially not with flowers in your hand. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you have a son and a wife waiting for you at home."

I tried to speak as casually as possible, even though my voice trembled from the effort of holding back all the words I wanted to throw at him. I didn’t want the twins to see me losing my composure or worse, being rude to Rome.

His eyes met mine again, steady but filled with something I couldn’t read. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. Or both.

"Uh..."

Rome’s voice faltered, his confidence slipping. For a man who always looked like he owned everything, he suddenly seemed... uncertain.

For a second, he looked like a boy caught doing something foolish.

"I—uh, I just thought..." he tried again, his tone softening. "you might like these. You used to like lilies, right?"

My chest tightened. The way he said it quietly brought back memories I had long buried. But what did he really want, showing up now? Did he have some hidden intention behind all this?

"I did," I said, my voice calm but edged with distance. "A long time ago."

Rome gave a small, almost nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Right... uh, then what about the twins? W-what kind of flowers do they like? Do they also like lilies, or maybe—"

"Stop it, Rome."

I sighed, crossing my arms.

"Why are you really here? Because this—" I gestured toward the flowers "—doesn’t feel right. Just go home. Don’t ask about the twins or anything. You have no place in their lives."

I caught the faint twitch of his jaw, like he was trying hard to hide his anger. He lowered his gaze, his grip tightening around the bouquet.

Just as I thought—this was all a setup. A simple trick to get close to the twins. Maybe he thought he could use me as a bridge to them. That alone made my anger rise.

"You can’t just show up with flowers and expect everything to make sense." I said quietly.

He nodded, looking down at the lilies as if they suddenly weighed too much to hold. "Yeah... I figured."

For a brief moment, I almost felt sorry for him. The way his confidence melted and was replaced by a flicker of sadness in his eyes.

But no—I couldn’t let myself fall for that act again. I knew him too well. This was how he always using guilt, charm, or pity to get what he wanted.

"Rome," I said, trying to keep my voice calm but cold. "you should go."

He looked up, hesitation flashing in his eyes. "Can I at least give these to the twins—"

"No." I forced a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Take the flowers with you. Maybe your wife will appreciate them more than I could."

For a second, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Right," he murmured. "You’re right."

He turned away, clutching the bouquet like a burden, walking heavily with his shoulders slumped.

I closed the door before I could change my mind.

Leaning against it, I let out a long, shaky breath. My heart was pounding, my thoughts tangled between anger and something else—something I refused to name.

Through the window, I caught a glimpse of him stopping in the middle of the path, staring at the flowers for a moment before walking away again and tossing the bouquet into a trash bin.

I pressed my palm against the wooden door, feeling the faint warmth from where it had just closed behind him.

"Don’t come back, Rome." I whispered to myself.

But as I looked out the window again, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that he would.

Rome wasn’t the type to walk away so easily. He’d always been stubborn when it came to getting what he wanted.

I exhaled shakily and rubbed my arms, as if that could calm the chill creeping up my spine.

"You can’t find out about the twins, Rome," I muttered under my breath. "Not now. Not ever."