I'm Not the Man Her Fireworks Honor

Christian's POV

Sheila Lindell, my fiancee, looked serious as she unfolded the countertop dishwasher brochure. "It's the latest model. It's really advanced, too, so you can leave the dishwashing to it in the future. You don't have to tire yourself out with the chores, Christian."

I looked at the price written on it—4,700 dollars was by no means cheap. If it had been before, I probably would have convinced myself that Sheila did love me, even if her love always came with a practical approach.

I had just watched the grand fireworks display that night, with the golden rays stretching from the sea to the horizon. It was like a fire that wouldn't burn out, though that fire was never meant to warm me.

I asked softly, "Did you put together tonight's fireworks show?"

Sheila stopped what she was doing for a second before replying nonchalantly, "Yep. Jeremy just returned from abroad. I promised I'd set off a fireworks show for him every year."

I felt my heart sink when I heard that. I had waited for seven years for Sheila to say she had time, that we'd do it next time, or that she'd design the most beautiful fireworks show for me someday. Jeremy Lund, her first love, didn't even have to wait. He had one fireworks show every single year.

Sheila seemed to notice that I had gone quiet. She walked over and held my wrist, saying, "Christian, fireworks only last for a moment. They're gone once they burn out. I'm buying you this dishwasher because I really want to make things easier for you."

I merely smiled faintly and didn't press the matter like I used to.

Sheila breathed a sigh of relief and reached up to fix my collar. "I knew you'd like the dishwasher. You're always so understanding, Christian."

I had heard her say that I was understanding countless times over the past seven years.

I wanted fireworks for my birthday, but Sheila bought me an electric razor instead, saying, "Those fireworks only last for a little while. You'll be using this every day instead, Christian."

I wanted to spend our anniversary at the beach, but Sheila gave me a gift card for a massage chair instead, saying, "You always say your neck and shoulders hurt, so this is a lot more practical than going out of your way to travel."

I said I wanted something to make it feel more special, but Sheila merely smiled and tugged lightly at my sleeve. "We've been together for so long. We don't need to do what young couples do."

I had always believed that she was a practical person back then. Sheila was a pyrotechnician who spent her days designing fireworks, so she had seen enough splendor to last a lifetime.

I used to think that people who appreciated romance the most were the ones who refused to waste it on the ordinary. I finally realized the truth tonight. Sheila wasn't incapable of romance. She just chose not to be that way with me.

Jeremy liked the gold tail effect in fireworks, so Sheila fine-tuned them for him until 3:00 am. Jeremy liked the sea, so Sheila put on a fireworks display over the entire sea for him.

I suddenly recalled that the best part of those fireworks—that blue-purple tail—was something I'd doodled for her seven years ago, without even thinking much of it.

I remembered leaning across the table back then, asking eagerly, "If you ever design fireworks for me one day, could you make it look like a galaxy falling into the sea, Sheila?"

Sheila teased me for being naive back then. "That's not how fireworks are designed, Christian."

Yet tonight, that naive idea of galaxy-like fireworks had become the fireworks that appeared above Jeremy.

Sheila's phone screen lit up with a call from Jeremy just then. She took a look, grabbed the phone, and went to the balcony. She didn't completely close the doors to the balcony, so when the night breeze slipped in, it carried the lingering smell of fireworks smoke.

She spoke softly from the balcony, with a gentleness I had never heard from her. "Did you like the blue-purple tail fireworks tonight, Jeremy? Christian mentioned that idea casually years ago. He doesn't know anything about fireworks. He described what he wanted well, so I modified it into something like this."

I was slightly stunned after hearing that.

Sheila chuckled softly after hearing Jeremy's question. "He wouldn't mind. He's always been very understanding. He's just a doctor who knows how to deal with surgery. What could he possibly know about fireworks? You see, my fireworks are only for those who know how to appreciate them—like you, Jeremy."

I suddenly realized how ridiculous everything was. It turned out that the fireworks I waited seven years for were never about love in Sheila's eyes. It was simply about whether I deserved to watch them.

I used to believe that if I waited a little longer, Sheila would eventually turn around and notice me, but now that the fireworks had ended, I knew it was time for me to take my leave from her life.