Chapter 3
That evening, Jonathan walked through the door.
We'd been sleeping in separate rooms for ages, and he'd already built a new home with that woman.
I honestly had no idea why Jonathan still insisted on coming back to this house every day.
We sat across from each other at the dining table, silent. The only sound was the occasional clatter of fork and bowls.
Jonathan served me a rib, placing it gently on my plate.
I just let him.
But even after I finished my meal, the rib was still lying there, untouched.
"Your birthday's coming up next week," Jonathan said. "How about I host a party for you? Invite a few friends, just to liven things up."
"Do whatever you want," I said, shrugging. "But I'm having dinner somewhere else that night, so I won't be around."
Jonathan finally looked at me, a hint of helplessness in his eyes.
"Susan, do you really have to keep being this way?"
"Like what?"
He paused, then said, "I just want us to be okay."
I set down my fork and suddenly asked, "Jonathan, have you ever thought about divorcing me?"
"No," Jonathan answered without hesitation.
"Don't you want to give Emily a proper status? She's been with you all these years without being officially recognized. Doesn't that make you feel guilty?"
Jonathan frowned. "Susan, I've told you before. I don't love her. I just feel compassion for her."
"The only one I've ever loved is you."
"It's just that she reminds me so much of you when you were young. I just want her to live well, to be happy."
"That's all."
He really meant it. He never lied to me.
He never once lied to me. The only thing he ever kept from me was Emily, and that was just at the beginning.
When I found out, he admitted it right away.
I asked him to keep his distance from Emily, and at first, he agreed.
But later, he told me he couldn't go through with it.
He said he just couldn't stand by and watch Emily sink deeper into trouble without reaching out to help.
I totally lost it, broke down, yelled, sobbed, and felt like I was falling apart.
He just held on for dear life, refusing to let go, letting me punch and kick him without fighting back.
Until I finally ran out of energy.
Jonathan thought I'd finally accepted it, so he tentatively brought Emily over to meet me.
She had a figure just like mine, and when she looked at Jonathan, there was that same trust and reliance in her eyes, just like I did back then.
That night, I ended up lying in the bathtub, slitting my wrist.
If they hadn't found me in time, I'd probably be six feet under by now.
After that, Emily never crossed my path again.
Jonathan started treating me with even more care than before, afraid I might lose it again. He barely let me out of his sight.
There were times when he accidentally fell asleep, and the moment he jolted awake, the first thing he did was check if I was okay.
I knew he was exhausted.
But so what?
No matter how drained he was, once he walked out that door, he had Emily waiting to hold him and make everything feel okay again.
But what about me?
Who do I have to hold me when I fall apart?