21. Plants and Groceries
“No judgment here,” Cynthia said, tilting her head. “I’m Cynthia, by the way. And you are…?”
“Eva. Eva Walter. And yes, I totally talk to plants. Some people might call it crazy, but I call it… well, therapy.”
Cynthia laughed again, and there was a spark of easy camaraderie. “Eva, talking to plants is definitely therapy. Maybe you can teach me this magic.”
Eva’s eyes twinkled. “Deal. You pick the plant, I’ll tell you its secrets.”
“Alright,” Cynthia said, picking a tiny succulent. “This little guy?”
Eva crouched down, examining it closely. “Oh, this is a fighter. Survives anything… kind of like… me.” She smirked.
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. “I like your style. We should grab coffee after this and trade more plant wisdom. I think we’d make great plant nerds together.”
Eva laughed, feeling an unexpected warmth. “It’s a date—plant nerd date. Totally platonic, of course. I don’t want your plants to get jealous.”
Cynthia mock-gasped. “How dare you. My lavender will be very offended.”
They both laughed, the kind of easy, instant connection that happens rarely. Eva felt a little lighter than she had all day, surrounded by flowers… and this new, cheerful stranger who seemed ready to become a friend.
Eva stood at the counter, swiping her card, while the attendant packed the last pot.
“Ma’am, are you sure you’ll be able to carry all these?” the boy asked, raising an eyebrow at the growing stack.
Eva gave a bright smile. “Of course! I’m stronger than I look… besides, they’re just plants. How heavy could they be?”
Five minutes later—
She stepped out of the nursery with two big bags dangling from her arms, three small pots balanced like a tower against her chest, and one tiny cactus tucked under her chin.
“Ughhh… what was I thinking?!” she groaned, shuffling towards the road. “Eva Walter, cardio specialist in the making, defeated by photosynthesis babies.”
One of the bags slipped, and she did a dramatic wiggle to save it, managing to look like a juggling clown in the process.
“Should’ve just bought one sunflower. One. But nooo… you wanted a whole garden,” she muttered at herself. “Great. Now how do I even get home?”
She looked left and right at the street, clearly hoping a taxi would magically appear. Instead, an old lady passing by chuckled at her state.
“Darling, planning to open a nursery at your house?” the lady teased.
Eva gave a sheepish smile. “Something like that…”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she had no free hands to check. She blew a frustrated puff of air upward, her bangs bouncing.
“Okay, plants,” she whispered to the pots, adjusting them again, “don’t you dare break before we even reach home. I risked my wallet and my dignity for you.”
With that, Eva waddled slowly towards the road, looking equal parts adorable and tragic.
Eva carefully lowered all her pots to the pavement, stretching her arms like she’d just run a marathon. She finally dug out her phone, and the screen flashed Lexi Calling.
Eva smiled softly, answering, “Gurl! What’s up?”
Lexi’s voice came fast and dramatic, “Where are you? It’s been three days! Are you avoiding me? Don’t tell me the hospital swallowed you whole again.”
Eva bit her lip, glancing at her plants like they might rat her out. “Uhh… just busy, you know. New shifts, lot of patients. Nothing exciting.”
Lexi huffed. “Fine, fine. But you owe me a coffee catch-up. Three days without gossip is torture.”
Eva laughed, masking her guilt. “Promise. Soon. Love you.”
She hung up, sighing. Sorry, Lexi… not yet.
Just then—a pat landed on her shoulder.
Eva gasped, almost dropping her cactus.
“Easy there, dear sister-in-law,” came Ryle’s unmistakable mischievous drawl.
Her eyes widened. “Ryle!” She scrambled to gather her plants, flustered. “What are you doing here?”
Ryle casually shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head with that signature grin. “Question is, what are you doing here? Buying half the forest?” He bent to peek at the bags. “Wow. Planning to open a jungle safari at home?”
Eva rolled her eyes, hugging a pot close. “They’re just a few plants. And why ‘sister-in-law’? We’re outside. Anyone could hear you!”
Ryle smirked, leaning closer. “Relax. No one cares. Besides… watching you juggle all this is entertainment enough.”
Eva narrowed her eyes. “Are you here to help or just roast me?”
“Both,” he said smoothly, already lifting two heavy bags as if they weighed nothing. “Come on, Eva. Your knight in shining blazer has arrived.”
Eva muttered under her breath, “More like a devil in sneakers…” but she followed him, cheeks puffed in frustration.
Ryle heard that, of course. “Careful ma'am .That devil is currently saving your babies from a tragic street accident.” He wiggled the bags.
Eva couldn’t help it—she laughed.
Ryle balanced the last pot on his hip as Eva fumbled with the keys. The door creaked open, and the two of them stepped into the house.
Inside, the space felt… empty. Furniture stood neatly in place, but the walls were bare, no warmth, no life—like a hotel room someone never bothered to decorate.
Eva placed her plants gently on the floor, already picturing them scattered across corners, brightening up the dullness. She dusted her palms, exhaling.
For a moment, she turned, the words almost slipping out—Where’s Neil?—but Ryle’s phone buzzed loudly.
“Ah, damn,” he muttered, checking the screen. His expression shifted. “I gotta take this. Bye.”
Before she could say anything, he set the last bag down, gave her a quick wave, and hurried out.
The silence rushed in.
Eva stood there, her gaze moving around the plain room, then down to her pots. “Guess it’s just us,” she whispered, kneeling to unwrap a flowering plant.
The faint rustle of leaves was the only sound that kept her company.
She smiled softly, trying to shake the emptiness in her chest. “We’ll make this place feel like home, right?”
She tucked a fallen petal behind her ear, her hands already busy rearranging the plants, filling the quiet with her own sunshine.
Eva stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by her pots. Bright flowers, little ferns, even a baby lemon tree she couldn’t resist at the nursery—all scattered like pieces of her heart trying to claim space in this silent, empty house.
But as she looked around, a wave of hesitation washed over her.
Her hands stilled on the rim of a clay pot. Oh wait… this isn’t my home. Not really.
She bit her lip. Yes, I love gardening. I love how plants make walls smile. But… does that give me the right to just bring them here?
Her brows furrowed, nervousness creeping in. What if he asks? What if D . Morris comes in and says—‘Why are these plants here?’ Ugh, Eva, you should’ve asked him first.
Her chest tightened at the thought.
But then again… how could she ask? He hadn’t said a word since last night, and hadn’t come home yet. Not a single call. Not even a text.
She let out a soft sigh, crouching down by a pot of daisies. “I don’t even know if he likes flowers,” she whispered to herself, tracing a petal with her fingertip.
The silence of the house pressed on her, making the walls feel colder. She hugged her knees for a second, whispering again—this time almost like a promise to herself, “Maybe… maybe I’ll just keep them in the corner. Quiet. For now.”
Her lips curled into a faint smile, though her eyes shimmered with an emotion she didn’t dare to name.
Eva rubbed her temples, the ache from hospital rounds still clinging to her shoulders. Her stomach gave a loud, very unladylike growl.
“Okay… food first, then plants,” she muttered, dragging her tired feet to the kitchen.
But the moment she opened the fridge, her eyes widened.
Empty. Completely. Not even a water bottle.
“…Seriously?”
She pulled open a cupboard. Empty. Another one—nothing but dust.
Her jaw dropped. “Oh come on!”
Eva opened every shelf twice as if maybe—just maybe—the groceries would magically appear.
Eva: “Not even bread… or an egg? Oh come on, Mr. Surgeon, do you live on oxygen and coffee alone?” she muttered under her breath, shutting the fridge with a soft thud.
Then she realised it was a brand new apartment and both of them entered here for the first time.
Her stomach growled in betrayal. She leaned on the counter, sighing.
Eva: “Great. Married into the Morris family and starving on day two. Fancy life, huh Eva?”
She tied her hair into a messy bun, grabbed her wallet and muttered to herself:
Eva: “Fine. Grocery shopping at 9 PM it is. If my fake husband doesn’t feed me, I’ll feed myself.”
And with that, she marched out with determination, still a little pouty, still a little lost, but Eva being Eva—full of her sunshine spark even in small struggles.
The front door creaked open just as Eva was about to leave. Neil walked in lazily, loosening his tie, his sharp expression unreadable. He looked nothing like he’d just come from the hospital—Eva couldn’t tell, and he wasn’t about to explain where he’d been.
Neil (his tone calm but commanding): “Where are you going at this hour, Walter?”
Eva arched a brow, the sarcasm slipping naturally from her lips.
Eva: “Like your perfect home has all groceries and food. I need my fuel to survive, sir.”
Neil’s gaze flicked toward her hand clutching the keys. Instead of answering her jab, he moved past her to place his coat on the chair.
"And where were you all day? " She shot her question in anticipation that he wouldn't answer.
Eva huffed. Typical. Ignore her question, act like a wall. She turned toward the door again, but his voice followed, firmer this time.
Neil: “Wait. I’ll come.”
Eva spun around, baffled.
Eva: “Excuse me?”
Neil finally looked at her, his eyes steady, unreadable.
Neil: “It’s our home now. We’ll go together.”
Her lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the simple word our. It settled in the air heavier than she expected, warming something she didn’t want to admit.
Eva blinked, shaking her head quickly to cover it up.
Eva: “Wow. So now I get a bodyguard for grocery shopping too? Should I bow in gratitude, Mr. Morris?”
Neil didn’t flinch. He simply stepped toward her, took his car keys in infuriating calmness, and said,
Neil: “Let’s go.”
Eva glared, muttering under her breath, but still followed him out—half annoyed, half curious what this man was really thinking.
The automatic doors slid open, and Eva practically bounced inside, grabbing a cart like it was a playground ride. Neil followed, hands in his pockets, his expression as sharp and unreadable as always.
Eva: “Okay, rule number one—no boring shopping. If you pick only brown bread and oats, I’m divorcing you on spot.”
Neil (deadpan): “You can’t divorce me if the marriage isn’t public yet.”
Eva (throwing a pack of instant noodles into the cart): “Oh-ho, look who’s suddenly the lawyer.”
Before Neil could reply, a familiar voice interrupted.
Old Lady: “Hi, darling!”
Eva froze. Turning around, she saw the same sweet old woman from before, holding a small potted plant in her hands. Eva’s smile turned a little stiff as she greeted her politely.
Eva: “H-hello.”
The old woman’s eyes flicked to Neil, widening with delight.
Old Lady: “Oh! And this must be your boyfriend? My goodness, he’s handsome!”
Eva’s face burned. She opened her mouth, ready to deny, but Neil got there first—calm, smooth, confident.
Neil (with the faintest smile): “Husband, ma’am.”
The old woman clapped her hands together in joy.
Old Lady: “Oh, even better!” She winked at Eva. “Smart girl.”
Eva wanted to crawl into the shelves of biscuits and never return. She elbowed Neil lightly as soon as the woman walked away.
Eva (hissing): “Why would you say that?”
Neil (shrugging, dropping a pack of almonds into the cart): “Because it’s the truth.”
Eva’s mouth opened, then shut. She grabbed a pack of chips aggressively to hide her blush.
Eva: “Ugh, you’re impossible.”
Neil glanced at her cart, filled with snacks, biscuits, and brightly packaged junk food. His eyebrow arched.
Neil: “You’re planning to survive a week on sugar and salt?”
Eva: “Excuse me, sir, this is called living. You should try it sometime.”
Neil removed half the packets she tossed in and replaced them with vegetables and whole grains.
Eva (snatching one back): “Hey! That’s my guilty pleasure!”
Neil (calmly putting it back on the shelf): “You’ll thank me later when you don’t collapse in the hospital.”
Eva muttered something under her breath about “grumpy dietician husbands” while sneaking a pack of chocolates into the cart when he wasn’t looking.
But Neil caught it anyway, his lips twitching just slightly—as if he was fighting a smile.
Eva stomped her foot.
Eva: “You can’t stop me from eating my favourite snacks, Mr. Morris!”
Neil glanced at her fiery expression, and for once, he didn’t argue. Instead, his lips twitched in surrender.
Neil: “Fine. Five minutes. Grab whatever you want.”
Eva’s eyes sparkled. she chirped before running down the aisle like a child set free.
Neil shook his head, his phone buzzing at the same time. He slipped to the corner, answering in his usual low, professional tone.
Five minutes later, Eva returned with arms full of snacks, only to frown when she didn’t see him by the cart. She scanned the rows—no tall grumpy surgeon in sight. With a pout, she wandered deeper until she finally spotted him.
Eva: “There you are—”
Her voice trailed off. She froze. Because Neil Morris—her oh-so-perfect, grumpy, collected boss-turned-husband—was standing right in the middle of the condom section.
And worse? He looked entirely unbothered, still murmuring something over the phone.
Eva’s cheeks are heated but in disgust. She raised her brows and folded her arms, giving him the look—the one that screamed caught red-handed.
By the time he hung up and turned, her expression nearly made him choke.
Neil: “…What?”
Eva: “Oh, nothing.” (cheap little smirk) “Just… interesting choice of background, Dr. Morris.”
Neil blinked, confused, before glancing around. The instant realization dawned, his jaw tightened, and for once, the composed surgeon slipped.
Neil: “Oh… damn.”
Eva tried—and failed—not to laugh.
Eva: “Dr. Morris, should I be… worried?”
Neil gave her a long, dangerous look, his voice dropping:
Neil: “You talk too much, Eva.”
Eva bit her lip to keep from laughing, but the mischievous sparkle in her eyes gave her away.
Eva: “So… shopping for healthy diets and healthy… lifestyles?”
Neil (pinching the bridge of his nose): “Don’t start, Walter.”
Eva leaned closer, whispering dramatically: “Relax, fake husband. No one’s judging.”
Neil gave her one of his dangerous side glares, but she only giggled, skipping away with her snacks.
And for the first time that evening, the great Dr. Neil Morris felt just a little flustered.
Neil threw the last of the groceries into the back seat with a loud thud. Eva flinched.
Eva: “Whoa! Careful, Mr. Morris! Those are expensive jars, not bricks!”
Neil glanced at her, unbothered.
Neil: “You’re safe. Nothing broke. Mostly.”
Eva huffed, scanning the jumble of snacks, vegetables, and oddly shaped packages.
Eva: “Mostly? What does that even mean? You’re going to give me a heart attack with your chaos.”
Neil smirked, shutting the door.
Neil: “Relax, it’s organized chaos. Unlike you, I can multitask.”
Eva: “Organized chaos? You just threw all my snacks and your veggies together! This is an apocalypse of groceries!”
Back in the car, Eva crossed her arms, eyes fixed on the dark road.
Eva: “So it’s all secrets for the whole year then, Dr. Morris?” she muttered, her tone sharp. “You didn’t answer one single question for two hours.”