If in a few years you ask about a reference couple of passion and complicity, people will tell you their story.
Their love was the same way a spark makes a gunpowder explode yet it burns slowly. It's the same way one momentarily seems to vanquish...
Hey guys! Thank you again for the overwhelming comments. I honestly feel anxious each time I press 'publish' but your comments makes it very fulfilling to do what I do. 💕 Also, let me know if I should cut the story's details or not. The longer I've been writing, the more words are written lol. Today's chapter has 3800+ words. As always, thank you again for reading and the love. Take care 🤗
-D
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Stefani's POV
On the morning of the Super Bowl, my lovely team is setting me up to perform at the Halftime Show which is probably my biggest career highlight to date.
The three dogs and I were awakened to the foyer which transformed into a florist's shop. Then, somebody handed me a bouquet of purple and pink hydrangeas and roses, with a card attached to it.
I read it in silence, as everyone in the room wait for my reaction, my face remained expressionless. I took a deep breath, and then closed it before I walked to the kitchen. I've previously been shoving pillows into my face in agony during physical therapy and appear zombie-like after late-night studio sessions, but this is the most traumatized I've been in a while.
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"Well, nothin' like getting flowers from your ex-fiancé on the day of the Super Bowl," I say, trying to laugh off the gesture to relieve tension. I slam the flowers onto the kitchen counter, then into the sink. All the yes-men and -women in the room play along, uncomfortably chuckling and cheering on my sass. Until I turned to the assistant who gave me Taylor's bouquet for a hug that lasts long enough to make it clear I was genuinely unnerved.
All the laughing stopped. Freddie raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'Awkwaaaard'
Eventually, I changed my mind. "Actually, we'll put them out. Nice and proud," I announce, placing them next to the ones Bradley sent with rest of the flowers so that they look like they could be from anyone. "That's very thoughtful," Sarah assured. No one else in the room seems to know what to say.
Those flowers took nothing away from the accomplishment in the making later today.
I asked the camera to stop rolling for a while so I could talk to Bobby, Freddie and Sarah.
"On what should have been one of the proudest days of my life, a man could still make me feel like the Super Bowl isn't enough — and it's an indelibly painful moment to behold." I let out, trying to study the woman I saw on the mirror, staring straight back at me.
"You know Christian's help is still up, right?" Bobby's voice reminds us through the phone's speaker.
"But Bobby, I thought we are doing fine with Bradley?" Freddie inquired before we decided on our next move.
"She's fine," Bobby spat at the person on the other line of his phone. Frustration was building across his face as he lied for the fourth time on the week of December. "Why wouldn't she be okay, Bradley?"
