The Last Time He Chose Her

Julian’s first love was back. And just like that, he abandoned the woman who had been his wife for three years. For her, he left me alone in an unfamiliar city, coughing up blood. He said I was manipulative and didn’t deserve to be his wife. So I gave him what he wanted. I left. He told me to stop being childish. What he didn’t know was that I was dying. I set dinner on the table early and waited for Julian to come home. A long time passed, but I never heard the familiar sound of his key in the door. I took out my phone, opened his contact, then backed out again. While I was still hesitating, Julian called first. “Emma, I’ll probably be home late tonight. Don’t wait up.” I wanted to say something, but he had already hung up. “…Okay.” It was my birthday. He had promised to come home and celebrate with me. I glanced at the medical report in my purse. In the end, I crumpled it in my fist and shoved it back inside. I hadn’t been feeling well, so I’d gone to the hospital a few days ago for a full checkup. The results had come back today. Today, a doctor had told me I had liver cancer. I didn’t understand. I didn’t smoke or drink, and I rarely even stayed up late. How could I have this disease? I stopped thinking about the diagnosis. All I knew was that Sophie Bennett, Julian’s first love, had returned today. That was why he had forgotten my birthday. Why he had been so quick to hang up. He had gone to see the woman he’d never managed to forget. I stood there in a daze. If the cat hadn’t meowed, I might have stayed rooted to that spot forever. I gathered her into my arms. “Are you hungry, Emmie?” Tears slid down my cheeks before I could stop them, soaking Emmie’s white fur. Three years ago, I saw Julian again for the first time after he’d disappeared from my life for seven years. He had been leaning against a window, a cigarette resting between his lips. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “Emma Hayes, I want to get married. You’d be a good choice.” I had loved Julian for ten years. I understood him well. He needed a wife, and I happened to fit the role. I wanted to take that chance. To believe that if I stayed by his side long enough, he would learn to love me. I’d always had a habit of overestimating myself. This time was no different. By the time I filled Emmie’s bowl and put dinner away, it was already late. The birthday cake sat alone on the table. I cut myself two slices. Strawberry. It was sweet—so sweet it was almost sickening. When I was little, I’d always dreamed of having a strawberry cake all to myself. Now that I finally did, it didn’t taste nearly as good as I had imagined. I clasped my hands in front of my chest, closed my eyes, then opened them again. “Happy birthday, Emma.” Somewhere along the way, I fell asleep on the couch. Emmie curled up at my feet, keeping me warm. I was a light sleeper. The sound of the door opening jolted me awake. Julian stepped inside, closing the door softly and keeping his footsteps quiet. The moment he switched on the light, our eyes met. He paused, then frowned slightly. “Why are you still up?” I pointed at my phone. “I fell asleep watching a show out here. You woke me when you came in.” I didn’t act upset about how late he was. I wore the same faint smile I always did. I poured him a cup of herbal tea and set it beside him. As I leaned closer, I caught the scent of another woman’s perfume. It was Sophie’s. I knew it.The scent filled my nose, and nausea washed over me. With what little time I had left—on what might have been my very last birthday—my husband had gone to welcome his first love home. I said nothing. I rarely went against Julian. I didn’t cry, make a scene, or blame him. Being reasonable and understanding was why he had chosen me in the first place. The next morning, I laid out his clothes and made his breakfast as usual, then watched him leave. As though nothing had happened the night before. Julian’s social circle wasn’t easy to enter. Many business opportunities depended on maintaining relationships with the other executives’ wives. I didn’t like the atmosphere among those wealthy women, but for Julian, I was willing to put up with it. I arranged to meet one of them at a newly opened dessert café. I took a seat by the window, tucked so far into a corner that you could easily miss it. When I happened to look up, I saw Julian and Sophie walk in, laughing and talking. Sophie hadn’t changed at all. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, and her smile drew people in. She was like a little ray of sunshine. When her cake arrived, she held the first bite to Julian’s lips. He opened his mouth and ate it. As far as I remembered, Julian rarely ate sweets. Apparently, the problem wasn’t dessert. It was who offered it to him. Just then, the woman I’d been waiting for finally arrived and sat down across from me. Her eyes were red. She had been crying, and the moment she saw me, fresh tears spilled down her face. She told me her husband had a mistress. She could have looked the other way. But the woman had come right up to her and announced that she was pregnant with her husband’s child. My gaze drifted toward Julian and Sophie. Noticing my distraction, my companion followed my eyes. When she spotted Julian, she looked back at me several times. When I made no move, she grabbed my arm, ready to drag me over and confront them. Our struggle must have drawn attention. Several people turned to look. Sophie looked our way too. She rose from her seat and approached me, looking delighted. “Emma? It’s been so long! What are you doing here?” Julian saw me as well and came over. His expression was unreadable as he stopped beside me. Without thinking, I wiped the corner of his mouth. “You have frosting here.” I smiled at him. Behind my back, the nails of my other hand dug into my palm. In that moment, anger wasn’t all I felt. I couldn’t bear how unfair it was. I had poured everything into protecting our marriage, yet Sophie could destroy it simply by showing up. “I just got back, and there’s so much I don’t understand about my new job. I was asking Julian for some advice…” As Sophie explained, I kept looking at Julian, waiting for him to say something. But he didn’t. His eyes stayed on Sophie. I couldn’t remember how I got home. The other woman’s words kept playing in my head. “The way your husband looks at her is different.” That evening, Julian brought home a red velvet cake. It was a rare gesture. Julian was a reserved man. He didn’t talk much, and he rarely showed his emotions. The cake was his way of making up for what had happened. He knew I liked dessert. He didn’t know red velvet was the one cake I hated most. I accepted it with a smile, then turned and put it in the fridge. I went to bed early that night, but no matter how long I lay there, I couldn’t fall asleep. Julian came in a little later and lay down beside me. His familiar scent surrounded me as he carefully drew me into his arms from behind. His warmth seeped through the thin fabric of my pajamas. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep again. Even after his breathing became slow and steady, I was still wide awake. The discomfort in my abdomen was getting worse. Only then did I remember. I was dying.