"I’m not making a scene, I’m just making space."
I reached for my suitcase.
I couldn’t move it.
He was holding on tightly.
"Make room for what?" Frederick frowned, puzzled.
"I already said Emily is only staying temporarily. Why do you have to be so aggressive? Weren’t you generous before? How come you’re worse with age?"
I gave up on the suitcase and looked at him.
"You said it yourself—I’m thirty.
A thirty-year-old doesn’t like squeezing in with others. Not in space, not in a relationship."
"What do you mean?! Who’s squeezing in with you? You know perfectly well you’re the only one in my heart!"
Frederick roared,
"You insist on this? Fine! I’ll make Emily leave! I’ll make you happy!"
He turned abruptly and stormed out.
Before he even reached the door, Emily burst in.
Her hair was a mess, eyes were swollen like walnuts.
"It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault!" Her voice was shrill, piercing, full of heartbreaking sobs.
"If I hadn’t been so desperate to wear this instead of a nice outfit, you wouldn’t have argued… It’s all my fault!"
She screamed, tugging frantically at her pajamas.
The silk was slippery, and with her rough pull, the shoulder strap snapped with a sharp "pop."
The pajamas slid off her shoulders, bunched at her waist, and she yanked them down forcefully, throwing the garment onto the floor.
Frederick froze, his hand outstretched, hanging mid-air.
"Emily! What are you doing!"
