Flowers won’t fix

Vincent’s voice echoed through the lavish golden hall, tinged with restrained anger and deep disappointment. Sitting on the edge of an ornate divan, dressed in a pink embroidered lingerie set and a silky robe that barely concealed the new body he inhabited, he held the red rose like it was some kind of cruel joke.

"Do you honestly think that changes anything? That I’ll just forget you turned me into your wife because your real one left you? Seriously?"

He rolled his eyes and glanced at the grand mirror ahead. It was still strange to see that reflection — feminine, seductive, soft — and know it was him.

"You expect me to accept this? To play her role? Be your wife now? Come on, have some sense..."

Jeremy, standing at the entrance to the room, sighed deeply before responding:

"Look, I was just trying to help. The gypsy said the totem could swap two people. You told me it wasn’t fair, what she was doing to you. I thought it would be simple — you’d show up in court, say you were giving up your share of the fortune, and that would be it. I didn’t expect the damn idol to vanish... or for you to get stuck like this."

Vincent scoffed, crossing his legs in a gesture that, even if he wouldn’t admit it, was becoming strangely natural.

"Stuck? Jeremy, you threw me into this. And now you show up with a rose like some kind of poetic apology? I asked you for help — not to become... this!"

Jeremy stepped closer, his expression softer now, almost tender.

"Come on, Vincent... you used to complain all the time — about your job, your boss, your boring routine, your health, your debts. But now? You’re healthy, debt-free, living in luxury, no alarm clocks, no deadlines. And look at yourself — hair done, flawless makeup, lingerie that was clearly not picked at random. If you’re really that upset, why are you putting so much effort into the role?"

The question lingered in the air like expensive perfume. Vincent didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The truth was far too dangerous to say out loud.

Because the truth was...

He hid the statue.

Yes, that night, after everything happened, he took it and stashed it away.

Just in case.

To buy time.

To figure out if he actually wanted to go back.

And, if he was being brutally honest... he didn’t.

The attention, the affection, the little gestures — like the rose — they were getting to him. Jeremy, who had never been much of a husband, was now treating him like a treasure. Maybe out of guilt. Maybe out of desire. Maybe... something more.

Jeremy, on the other hand, already knew.

The security cameras had captured everything.

He saw Vincent take the statue. Saw where he hid it. But said nothing.

Because deep down, he didn’t want to lose his wife.

And now, maybe, he was gaining an even better version: beautiful, loyal, and — despite pretending to hate all this — slowly falling for him.

It had become a game.

One pretending not to know.

The other pretending to believe.

And in the middle of it all... flowers, lingerie, and a brand new life that, perhaps, neither of them really wanted to undo.