The morning after we buried my father, my ex-husband’s new wife walked straight into his garden and told me to begin packing my belongings.

because they knew how to defend themselves. They could bloom beautifully, yes, but they also knew when to show their thorns.

The memory almost made me smile.

Those white roses had been planted the summer I married Mason. Back then, he told me white flowers meant fresh beginnings. He said they looked pure, hopeful, and timeless. I believed him then, because continue reading …