At eight o'clock, near Silvercrest Bridge.
Darren had arrived early. He wanted to apologize to Natalie here and had prepared a few surprises.
This was the exact spot where Natalie had called the police on him.
It was the beginning of their misunderstanding.
He hoped he could clear things up and that they could go back to how they were.
Natalie hadn't expected Darren to ask her to meet here. Recalling the events of that day, she still felt a knot tighten in her chest.
When Darren saw Natalie arrive, he immediately walked toward her, holding a bouquet of roses.
His eyes were full of emotion as he said, "Natalie, I'm so happy you came."
Natalie looked at Darren holding the flowers, at the vibrant, dew-kissed red roses.
She found it laughable. In five years, he had never once given her flowers, let alone red roses that symbolized passionate love.
A cold smirk touched Natalie's lips.
"I thought you didn't like tacky things. I'm surprised you'd buy such garish, cliché red roses."
Darren had expected Natalie to be happy to see him with flowers—even if she didn't show it, he thought she'd be secretly pleased. He never anticipated such a direct jab.
It was like having a bucket of cold water thrown on him, but he persisted. "I don't like tacky things, which is why I never gave you red roses. But I was wrong. I shouldn't have measured everything by my own preferences. Roses represent passionate love, and my roses should be for you."
He had always been an arrogant man, concerned only with his own opinions and imposing them on Natalie.
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