YOU SWAN , HE FROG !

9

Jack had suggested James take Emma back to her parents' place, and James had agreed. He even bought a plane ticket to the city where I was on my business trip. 

That day, it seemed like James was planning to talk to Emma about it. But as soon as he stepped into the house, Emma walked out with a bowl of soup in hand. 

Emma, who usually acted like she lived above it all, had taken it upon herself to make a lavish dinner. She'd even gone out of her way to bake a fresh apple pie. 

"It was my fault that day. I forced you to choose. I was just so scared—scared of losing you." 

"I didn't want to get married either, but my mom threatened to kill herself if I didn't." 

"Those five years I was married to someone else, there wasn't a single day I didn't think about you." 

She wore my apron, looking up at James with such a pitiful expression, her tears falling in long streams. The corners of her eyes were red, as if touched by rouge. 

"I know your heart belongs to her now, but I can wait for you." 

"Please, don't send me away." 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. Her voice was so broken, so fragile, it tugged at the heart. 

"At least stay with me a little longer. When she comes back, I'll leave. Okay?" 

James didn't say anything. 

But he didn't push her away either. 

He let out a soft sigh, gently wiping away her tears. "Don't cry anymore. It's not good for the baby." 

He gave in. 

The dull ache in my chest spread, a sharp bitterness rushing through me like a tidal wave. 

How much do you have to love someone to be disappointed by them again and again, and still hold on? 

I had spent the last five years pouring every ounce of love and passion I had into him, giving my all, just to carve out a small space in his heart. 

But she—just a few tears, and he caved.