YOU SWAN , HE FROG !

2

James really did bring Emma back. 

I watched as he gently placed a drunken Emma on the couch, then took a warm towel to wipe her face. "...You're pregnant. You shouldn't be drinking so much," he said softly, though there was a sternness in his voice, the same tone he used when scolding her for not paying attention in class years ago. 

Emma, seemingly half-aware, mumbled about a headache. James chuckled, lifting her up and placing his slender fingers on her forehead, pressing lightly from her forehead to her temples, just behind her ears. It was such a tender scene that my heart clenched, skipping a beat before it started up again, almost painfully. 

For a moment, I was dazed. Back when we had just graduated from college, James' grandmother had passed away, and Emma's parents—disapproving of James' background—had forced her into an arranged marriage. That dark, painful half-year? I was the one who stayed by James' side, helping him get through it, little by little. Six months later, he accepted my confession. 

When he later decided to start his own business, there were nights he'd come home after heavy drinking. I'd be the one wiping his face with a warm towel, making him sober-up soup, staying up all night to care for him. The next morning, I'd be exhausted, dark circles under my eyes. James would look at me for a long time, then sigh and gently pull me onto his lap, massaging me. 

I was caught off guard, touched by his attention, and the soft pressure of his fingers was so comforting that I playfully pouted, "James, you're not allowed to do this for anyone else, okay?" I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. 

Just as I was about to backtrack, I heard him chuckle softly above me, "Okay." He said "okay" back then. 

But now... well, Emma doesn't count as "someone else," does she? 

I was just James' exception, while Emma was always his favorite from the start.