I give a polite smile back and take one of the bouquets. It smells of jasmine and lavender. At least this time they're not roses.
"I'll check if dinner is ready," mom says lightly, and heads to the kitchen. Just at that moment, dad receives a call and withdraws from studying.
Suddenly, we're alone.
"I hope you liked the flowers this morning," he says, still standing in front of me. "They were to make up for the ones I couldn't bring you yesterday."
His tone is polite, almost gallant, but it feels a bit over-the-top to me.
"I think you'll leave the city without flowers at this rate," I remark with a half-mocking smile.
He remains silent for a moment, then lets out an unexpectedly sincere laugh.
"You're right. So... I'll correct it. Would you prefer chocolates? Jewelry?"
His gaze is
