My palms grew damp as I stared at the slight swell of her slightly rounded belly.
["Three months. Jason takes me for checkups on the first of every month."]
Her radiant smile turned into knives carving into my heart, slice after slice.

The first… So last month, the day I lost my baby, Jason was attending another woman’s prenatal appointment.
["What are you doing over here?"]
That familiar voice. Now the face I’d adored countless times twisted into grotesque shapes.
Ugly. Repulsive.
Jason looked surprised when he saw me.
He casually draped an arm around the woman’s shoulder, without a trace of shame or awkwardness.

Oh, right. We were getting divorced.
["Sophia? What are you doing here?"]
He looked put together, sharp suit, hair perfectly styled.
A stark contrast to my own disheveled state.

Had I ever truly seen the man beneath that polished exterior? What kind of heart beat behind that perfect facade?
["How long have you two known each other?"]
It felt like picking at a wound, but I needed to know when he’d betrayed us.
["This is Emily Roberts, my childhood friend…"]
His voice grew quieter.
Memories flooded back—of us squeezed into that tiny rented apartment years ago.
I’d accidentally found an old love letter he'd written to his high school sweetheart back then.
No wonder he rarely spoke of life before college. They’d dated in high school, until Emily's parents discovered them senior year.
Her family was wealthy. Back then, Jason had nothing. Her parents fiercely objected them.
After graduation, she was sent overseas to study.
And after that?
I remember Jason holding me close, whispering intimately in my ea, ["Then I met you. Knew right then."]
The look in his eyes was deep, unreadable, like a vortex threatening to pull me under.
I teased him, ["What if she came back? Would you still choose her?"]
He didn’t answer. Just kissed me deeply.
I thought his actions were his answer. Turns out, he was avoiding it.
Now, the words had come true.
I snapped back to the present. They were already gone.
["Honey, you still want these apples?"]
The checkout lady pointed at the bag.
["Yes, please. Could you weigh them?"]
A sour ache welled up inside. I loved apples. Jason thought they were boring. He wouldn’t eat one unless there was absolutely no other fruit.
Choosing apples meant there were no better options.
Choosing me… did it mean he’d settled because she wasn’t around? That anyone would have done?
I completely forgot why I’d come to the store. Just wandered the streets aimlessly, bag of apples in hand.
It was July, sweltering, but I felt no heat. The blazing sun beat down, yet I felt chilled to the bone.
Back home, a call informed I had a package requiring personal signature.
I hadn’t ordered anything. What package?
Soon, a delivery guy rang the bell. I signed and reached for the thin envelope. He hesitated, looking at me.
["Ms. Clark, someone asked me to pass on a message… Take care of yourself."]
Then he turned and left.
I looked at the thin envelope. I pretty much knew who it was from.
Inside, just a bank card.
Soon, a text from an unknown number, ["Sophia. $500,000 in the card. Consider it compensation for your years with Jason. Also, move out of the house ASAP."]
Hah. Half a million. For ten years of my life?
Sentimental or just coldly pragmatic?
That house was the first one Jason bought. My name was still on the deed.
I’d argued against it back then. He paid. Even deeply in love, accepting a whole house felt wrong.
He’d held my hand, thumb gently stroking my skin, eyes overflowing with love, ["Consider it an advance on your dowry."]
I’d believed it then. I thought love conquered all. I forgot love itself is fleeting.
Now it was over. Staying here wasn’t right.
The place was filled with memories of him. The person was gone. The memories should go too.
But I wasn’t giving it back. I listed it online for rent immediately.
I packed quickly. My parents had bought me an apartment before I met Jason. Time to move back.
I didn’t take everything. Just clothes, skincare, and work stuff.
While sorting files, I knocked something off the desk. An old black phone clattered down.
An outdated model, probably hard to find now.
I tried turning it on, not expecting much.
The screen lit up. The wallpaper was a photo of Jason and Emily, a beautiful couple.
Something must have happened. The locked screen showed a failed email from four years ago,
["Em, I miss you so much. Are you now…"]
I didn’t know his passcode, so that’s all I could see.
So all these years, he’d been searching for Emily.
I felt a moment of confusion. Was any of his love real?
I thought love just faded. Maybe he never loved me at all.
I spent a week pulling myself together, throwing myself back into work.
Right now, I was immensely grateful I hadn’t abandoned my career for so-called love.
I had a meeting with a client that afternoon to discuss a contract. Didn’t expect an unwelcome visitor.