[ WP ] on valentine 's day , a woman receives a big bouquet of flowers at work with a vase and everything , but they are not from her boyfriend who she lives with -- they are from her ex-husband

First post, so I'd love to hear some criticism: ) sorry about format, I'm on mobile. 
 
 Sam stared at the flowers, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She knew the day would come. The receptionist had told her someone had left a surprise for her on her desk, but she did n't expect such a feeling of hollowness to wash over her. 
 
 Five years earlier, Sam had gone through a divorce with her husband. It was n't messy, there was no fighting. It was more of a contract- they had both agreed that it was for the best. Sam was a changed person, and if she wanted to embrace her new self she had to leave the past behind her. That meant getting a divorce with Harry. She remembered the exact way that he had reacted when she had told him her choice- he merely nodded and thanked her for their time together. Honored, he said he was. He had never been abusive, or even gotten angry with her. In fact, she took the lead in anything they did together. He was more of an assistant than anything. Thirteen years they had been together, Although Sam never found it ironic that the divorce came then. It was n't unlucky for her, it was how things had to be. 
 
 Her boyfriend, Derek, never asked much about her old life. He knew she had been married before, but never truly asked about it as she did n't seem to want to talk about Harry. 
 
 `` He's a good guy,'' she told him whenever he asked. And that was the end of that. But internally, she remembered the old days, and sometimes even missed them. Her and Harry were partners; worked together. Every job they did, they did cooperatively and efficiently, and there were none better than the two of them. Sam held fondly onto the memories of their fancy home-cooked dinners before their outings. The way they always had flowers on hand, thanks to their beautiful garden. 
 
 So Sam was anything but surprised to see the vase of roses on her desk. They were beautifully arranged. She did n't have to read the note to know who they were from; she just closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, and waited for the knife to reach her throat.
