A middle-aged man, not yet in his fifties strolled in the park even before the moon scurried away. When you see him from afar, his presence challenges your every ounce of will to not turn and stare at him. Matthew Johanssen, a young billionaire, was walking unprotected in the public garden. There were already lovers hanging out in the trees, behind the bushes, or even on picnic mats. Matt smiled at the thought. How he would long to have Elizabeth back in his hands, where he could caress her skin, grazing it lovingly, addictively, and longingly. He sighed softly and plucked a red rose from the garden. They wouldn't mind. It would be better if he plucked it anyway, than let it go being trampled by little kids.

The rose seemed to intrigue him, its red hue so bright for his eyes. His fingers brushed on a thorn, and it drew a drop of blood. Nothing serious, well, at least not anyway. But there was something in this day that bothered him more than just that rose. The first day of spring, the day of Jackson Johanssen and Roselinda Thorne's wedding. It was a new beginning for that lovely couple, and hours from now, they would be walking out of the church, and Rose would have a different name. Mrs. Johanssen, Roselinda Johanssen. It was a nice name. If only she was married to him than to his son...
Matt shook of the feeling. He was 42 years old, exactly twice Rose's age, and he even dared fantasize about her, marrying him. It was crazy, out of the mind, but hey, so was their short "fling" that ended 4 months ago.
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Matt first met Rose on the summer of 1998, when he was still 37 years old, and Rose was still a young maiden of 16. A young maiden she was, but oh, how terrifying. It was just a debating experience for those aspiring to become lawyers, and Rose was one of those defending the government side. Mr. Thorne, Rose's father, introduced Matt to her, but she was too nervous to even smile. At first, he didn't even have that thing for her. After all, he had his wife Elizabeth already. Jackson was out with his fellas and had gone overseas for the next 2 years, which is a breather to both Mike and his wife. They could never relax with Jackson around. That kid was always so full of mischief. When Rose took the stage on, everyone was shocked at how she could easily maneuver her way and twist her opponent's words for her team to win. Yes, they did at last, with a unanimous decision from the judges, and Mr. Thorne celebrated his only daughter's victory with a party.
It was on the night of the party that Matt knew something was wrong with his wife. He took Liz to the hospital and an appointment to the doctor right after the debate, but no appointments could save the page-turning life of  Matthew, Elizabeth, and Rose.
It turned out that Elizabeth had cancer, and she knew long before she married Matt, but kept it a secret all these years. There is nothing we could do about it, she said. We can do something. We have to do something, he would counter. How, Matt? How? And that shut both of them up. Matt remained faithful to Liz until she breathed her last. He was on the bedside, talking to her about work, when suddenly, he began to grasp there was something wrong. After 15 years of being married for life, the vow had finally been broken, and Matt sobbed himself to his deathbed. Well, not exactly his deathbed.
You see, Liz had known that Matt would need someone to take care of him soon, and she knew Rose was just the right girl. She just met the lady thrice over 14 months, but she was confident about her choice. She was too confident in fact, that she never thought about Matt and Rose having secret feelings for each other.
At the first year, they both denied it very well. Avoiding each other, not looking straight at the eyes, and subtly walking towards the opposite direction whenever one comes. Rose's father saw it and grinned despite of himself. Nonetheless, old as he was, he still wanted to intervene. Every dinner that Rose would go to, Mr. Thorne would make sure that Matt was also there. He was just making fun, he assured himself, until he saw how serious the relationship is between Matt and his daughter. And by then, it was too late to go in between. Both of them were already head over heels in love with each other. And it went on for three years, until Jackson arrived, late from his "journey".
Matt knew instantly that his son pose a threat between him and his beloved Rose. But he still reasoned with himself. He was 40, for chrissake, and Rose was 19. How dare he, sleeping with a girl almost half his age! They thought it was chemistry, yet it was turning into poison. They thought it was a new beginning at first, yet it was just a way to end the story. There would be no turning back. He had to free Rose, even if it hurts him. Which it did. Quite a lot in fact.
Rose sat on her bed, crying herself to sleep. Just a week ago, Matt had broken it up between them. He was cold, and harsh, and she thought he was sick. But she saw the pain in his eyes reflecting hers, and she asked, Why? Can't we just be together? He let out a loud grunt and said, I don't think it's good for you to be running into men almost twice your age. After that Rose blushed hotly and told him, Well, I wouldn't if you didn't even seduce me when you're wife wasn't yet cold on her grave. That started the fight.
And so she turned away into the arms of Jackson. Her lover's son. And he welcomed her with open arms, treated her like a fragile glass, a treasure to be protected, but protected from who, she cannot say. All she knows is, she had to marry Jackson, one way or another. She can't bear being alone, facing the fears of dejection, and the thoughts that she couldn't see Matt's face again made it harder. At least, when she's an in-law, they could talk to each other. They could still see each other. It was torture, but she didn't even know she'd like to think of a more probable choice. Run away? Certainly not.
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Matt clenched the rose tight and his hand bled. If he continue holding it, it would surely hurt him more. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he gave himself a deal. Drop the flower, run to the other side of the bridge, and if the flower had already passed it long before he had gotten there, he had no choice, but to pack his bags and leave. And so he dropped the flower, without ever looking back.