Minimal for Me, Everything for Her Chapter 01

Minimal for Me, Everything for Her Chapter 01

Adrian Keller said we should be a minimalist couple.

No gifts. No holidays. No romantic gestures.

“Real love doesn’t need material things to prove it.”

My best friend, Sienna Parker, backed him up.

“Exactly. Your husband gets it. My ex was the opposite. All he knew how to do was buy me bags.”

I nodded.

So we lived minimally for four years.

In four years, I never received a single bouquet. Not one surprise.

On my birthday, Adrian posted on Instagram:

“Minimalist living. The best gift is companionship.”

The photo was of the two of us.

It got more than two hundred likes. I left a heart emoji in the comments.

Then I stumbled across Sienna’s private Instagram.

Limited-edition designer bags.

Custom jewelry.

A suite filled with roses.

Someone says real love doesn’t need material proof, but he insists on proving it to me anyway.

The location tag was the best suite at the Hawthorne Grand.

The date was my birthday.

I scrolled through nearly four years of posts.

Every single one had gone up on my birthday or wedding anniversary.

Every gift looked exactly like something Adrian would choose.

I exited her ins and removed my comment from Adrian’s post.

While I was at it, I removed myself from our relationship too.

…

Adrian called almost immediately.

“Why’d you delete the comment?”

I looked at the comment I’d already deleted and said softly, “Must’ve tapped it by accident.”

He didn’t question it. He only gave a quiet hum.

“There’s some whole-wheat bread left in the fridge from yesterday. Eat that. I’ve got something tonight, so I won’t be home.”

“Adrian, today’s my birthday.”

There was a two-second pause on the other end.

“Didn’t I post on Instagram?”

“That counts as a gift?”

“Nora, we agreed not to overconsume. A photo is still a way to remember the day. Don’t let social media get into your head.”

His voice stayed gentle, like he was patiently correcting a child who didn’t know better.

“If you want cake, order one yourself. Use our shared funds. Just don’t get anything too big. It’ll go to waste.”

I stared at the six-tier cake on Sienna’s post.

Adrian stood behind her, lighting the candles.

The lower corner of the photo caught half of a man’s wrist.

The watch on it was the one I’d given Adrian three years ago.

He hadn’t refused it.

He had simply transferred me the exact amount it cost and said, “Now it doesn’t count as a gift. Neither of us owes the other anything.”

Later, I’d put that money into our our shared funds.

But he’d kept wearing the watch.

“Where are you tonight?” I asked.

“At a get-together.”

“With who?”

His voice cooled slightly.

“You never used to check up on me.”

“Is Sienna there?”

This time, his silence lasted longer.

“She just went through a breakup. She’s having a rough time. A few of us are keeping her company.”

“In a presidential suite?”

“Nora Bennett.”

He used my full name.

“Were you snooping through her private account?”

So what mattered to him wasn’t what I’d found.

It was how I’d found it.

My fingers tightened around my phone.

“Every year, she gets gifts on my birthday and our anniversary. That’s a coincidence too?”

“She likes documenting her life. Stop making everything about you.”

“Who bought the gifts?”

“Does it matter?”

Adrian sighed.

“You’re already my wife. Why are you competing with someone who doesn’t feel secure?”

I laughed once.

“So she needs designer bags, jewelry, roses, and a presidential suite.”

“And I need an Instagram post?”

“Nora, marriage isn’t a competition.”

“Then come home. We can talk face-to-face.”

I heard a knock on his end.

Then Sienna’s laughing voice.

“Adrian, the candles are going out.”

Adrian lowered his voice.

“I’ll explain later.”

The call ended.

Half an hour later, my doorbell rang.

For one foolish second, I thought it was him.

Instead, there was a delivery driver outside.

“Ms. Bennett? Birthday delivery from Mr. Keller. I just need your signature.”

Inside the paper bag was a box of oatmeal close to its best-by date.

The order note read:

She’s been sleeping badly lately. No sweets. Get something practical.

I picked up the receipt.

Twenty bucks.

After the promo code, eleven bucks.

At the same moment, Sienna posted again.

She wore a diamond necklace and leaned against Adrian’s shoulder.

Someone said roses die in seven days, so he gave me a galaxy that never will.

I stared at the photo for a few seconds.

Then I liked it.

Sienna messaged me immediately.

Nora, don’t misunderstand. Everyone chipped in for the necklace.

I replied:

I didn’t ask who bought it.

The typing indicator stayed on for a long time.

In the end, she sent nothing.

Adrian came home at two in the morning.

He took off his coat, saw the oatmeal on the table, and his expression softened.

“You got it?”

“I got it.”

“Don’t complain that it’s simple. What’s right for you is better than something flashy.”

Then he walked into the bathroom.

I picked up his coat to hang it.

A folded receipt slipped from the pocket and fell to the floor.

Presidential suite.

Event setup.

Custom jewelry.

The total made the oatmeal on my table feel almost insulting.

At the bottom was a handwritten note.

Mr. Keller requested Juliet roses only. They’re Ms. Parker’s favorite.