Me and Saira completed a few months together. I was eighteen, at a blooming age for love, so I got some roses for my thirty three year old wife.
"Saira..." I called, entering our room after knocking.
"Hmm?" She didn't bother to look up from her phone.
"I.. uh.. I got this for you," I offer them a bouquet of roses with a grin.
I was juvenile, I failed to understand that I was unwanted.
"Oh." She frowned, taking them and throwing them on the bed, which faded my elation. She was my wife, was I not supposed to do that?
"Did you not like them? Do you like other flowers or anything else?" I asked sadly, looking down when she threw the gift I gave her with my heart.
"I don't like anything 'you' give or do for me." She scoffed.
"Why? Am I that bad, Saira?"
To my questi
