His face flushed, nowhere near that of a man battling heart disease.

Jane soothed Winston with gentle words, "Winston, it's not your fault, you're ill, it's only right that I look after you first."

I laughed bitterly, "He's sick, sure, but wasn't Emily too? Ever as devoted to her as you are to him? You couldn't even spare her one last look!"

Emily was so young, grappling with the sheer terror of her impending death, courageous enough to stage her own funeral.

It crushed me to hear why—why she wouldn't use the remaining time to do something delightful.

She hoped the mock funeral would bring her busy mom to her side, so she could see her mom with her eyes, if only for a moment.

But even that modest wish was too much for Jane to honor.

Just how busy can one be, to always be at Winston's side?

Facing this heartless woman, it felt like my heart had sprung a leak, the love seeping out grain by grain.

Yet, Jane remained indifferent, "What, thinking I should be guilty about Emily now?"

"Remember, you were the one who pleaded with me—that's the only reason I agreed to have her."

Jane and I ended up married because of Emily.

Five years back, after Mike left her to go abroad, a night of drinking led to a mistake.

Jane dismissed it as a one-night stand, and told me not to make a big deal of it, so I pocketed the engagement ring I had been carrying.

Her pregnancy was unexpected, and though Jane wanted to abort, the doctor warned her frail health made abortion risky and might prevent future pregnancies.

I begged her on my knees, and only then did she agree to keep our child.

I had hoped that Emily, being her flesh and blood, would mean something to her.

Clearly, she was colder than I ever imagined.

I had no more words for her, just one cold farewell.

"This place is mine, just leave."

I threw the door wide open, my face set in a grim resolve.

Jane stared back, clearly stunned.

For once, I didn't blow up about Winston or dissolve into desperate pleas for her forgiveness mid-fight.

That's been our pattern for the past five years, every damn time.

She'd even force me to record videos apologizing, just to play them back to me as a reminder of my supposed shame, proving her eternal rightness.

But I'm over it now. Done.

Maybe I was seeing things, but I swear I caught a glimmer of panic in Jane's eyes.