Chapter 3
1426words
That day, we were taking a rare walk together through the nearby shopping district.
"Wow, look James! That crepe shop over there has a new flavor! It's limited edition! Want to try it?"
Emily tugged at my arm. Her smile was as innocent as a carefree child's.
"...I don't eat sweet things."
"Eh—, really? Then I'll just... Ah!"
Emily exclaimed softly as if she had spotted something. But the other person noticed us first.
"……James? Hey, are you James Smith!?"
Hearing the familiar voice, I turned to see my only friend from university—William Brown—standing there.
"……Brown. Long time no see."
"Oh, it really is you! Haven't seen you since graduation, right? I heard rumors that you became a professional gamer! That's amazing!... By the way, who's this with you?"
Brown's gaze shifted to Emily beside me. His cheerful smile instantly froze.
"......Ah......"
His eyes, wide with shock, darted between Emily and me several times.
"Pleased to meet you. Thank you for taking care of my husband all this time. I'm his wife, Emily."
Emily bowed politely with a perfect smile.
"W-wife!? J-James, you two got married!?"
"......Yeah."
After my brief reply, Brown's expression changed dramatically. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to a less crowded spot.
"Hey, James, are you serious!? Don't you know what Johnson was like in college...!"
"Brown."
I cut off my friend's words with a low, sharp voice.
"Shut up."
"But she—!"
"Oh my."
As if materializing from thin air, Emily stood right beside us. On her face was the same perfect smile from earlier, without the slightest change.
"What are you two whispering about so secretively?"
The air instantly dropped to freezing. Emily tilted her head and stared at Brown with eyes like polished obsidian.
"May I ask what business you have with my husband? If it's about college days, please do share it with me as well."
Such phrasing was completely unrecognizable from the usual Emily—cold and haughty.
"N-no...! It's, it's nothing important...!"
Brown was visibly flustered, his face draining of color as he backed away.
"Y-yes! I just remembered I have something urgent to do! I-I need to go now!"
He shouted this and bolted as if escaping a predator. As he passed me, he whispered urgently in my ear.
"...Watch yourself, man. She has a history of manipulating people!"
In the blink of an eye, Brown vanished into the crowd.
Finally, Emily spoke.
"...He's gone. James, your friend is truly an interesting character."
When she turned back, not a trace of the previous coldness remained on her face. Only her usual sweet smile, reserved just for me, had returned.
"Come on, let's forget about that and go get some crepes, shall we?"
"...Yeah."
We resumed walking as if nothing had happened.
I didn't ask a single question about what Brown had just said.
As for Brown's warning about Emily being manipulative, I wasn't interested in that either.
Emily used to be my best friend, and now she is my most intimate companion. Even if I don't love Emily, I still believe her and give her my full respect and trust.
That evening, Emily brought up the matter herself.
"James, actually this wasn't the first time I met your friend," her expression darkened, her tone heavy. "He pursued me before, but I turned him down. I was afraid he might say something to you that would make you think less of me."
"That won't happen!" I said quickly. "I may not love you, but I could never dislike you."
Hearing this, Emily seemed somewhat relieved, yet also a bit disappointed. She suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between us, startling me.
Emily's fragrance filled my senses. She pressed on my shoulders, preventing me from backing away, her eyes holding some strange enchantment. "Don't push me away, James. Let's try kissing. Maybe if our bodies connect more often, perhaps you'll fall in love with me!"
Her expression carried a strange, desperate intensity.
Then she undressed and held me tightly: "Just for tonight, think of me as your wife in every way, will you?"
Emily looked so vulnerable that I couldn't bear to push her away. I steeled myself and said, "Alright, my wife."
This friendship had completely transformed into something else.
But I still didn't love Emily, though she asked if I loved her less frequently than before.
Feeling deeply indebted to Emily, I worked harder to earn money and decided to let Emily spend it all, hoping to give her a sense of security despite not being loved.
I had originally planned to spend the rest of my life with Emily this way.
But things started to unravel anyway.
It was a college class reunion. That night, many people showed up—familiar faces I knew well, and strangers I'd never met.
The reunion venue was thick with forced laughter, vanity, and the scent of cheap perfume.
I stood against the wall, swirling the liquid in my glass, my gaze fixed on only one thing—Emily's figure in the crowd, chatting animatedly with old friends.
Her smile hadn't changed.
Just like in college, she was vivacious, cheerful, and graceful.
And this was exactly the kind of scene I was least comfortable in—I was taciturn, reclusive, and awkward with words. At times like this, I would always wonder, why did Emily fall in love with me? Clearly, I was inferior to all her previous boyfriends. But she said she loved me.
She gave me her love, her whole heart, and her body.
All I could do was work hard and give her enough money to repay everything I owed her.
I hoped she wouldn't leave me just because I didn't love her.
We are best friends! For the sake of this friendship, I agreed to marry her, sleep with her, build a family with her. I couldn't bear to see this friendship destroyed by anyone!
However, that moment finally arrived.
Emily's gaze fell on a man standing in the corner of the room.
It was that man—the one who had rejected Emily's last confession—Liam Taylor.
Found him. I whispered quietly to myself.
Emily quietly slipped away from her conversation circle, nearly snatching a glass of champagne from a nearby table. She drained it in one gulp, grabbed a fresh one, and walked straight toward Liam Taylor. Her steps were deliberate.
"Mr. Taylor, it's been ages! I'm so glad to see you doing well!"
Emily's voice rang out clear as a silver bell. Beside Taylor sat a woman with a gentle appearance.
"Oh, Johnson... yes, it's been a while. You look well too."
Taylor's response was noticeably strained.
"Could we talk for a bit? Just the two of us."
Emily spoke as if the woman beside him didn't exist at all. Her eyes were fixed intently on Taylor alone.
"Um, I'm currently with my girlfriend..."
"Girlfriend? Oh, I see. But, just for a moment, that's okay, right? Just to catch up on old times?"
Her voice was so sweet it seemed to drip like honey. Just as Taylor frowned in confusion, the woman beside him thoughtfully spoke up.
"Liam, is this your friend? Should I give you two a moment?"
"No, it's fine." Taylor hurriedly stopped her, then sighed as if resigned. "...Johnson, let me introduce you. This is my fiancée, Sophia."
Fiancée—the moment that word rang out.
Crash!
A sharp, brittle sound.
Emily's champagne glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor.
In an instant, everyone's attention snapped to her.
I saw it. I saw Emily's smiling mask shatter along with the glass. And beneath that mask appeared her true face, twisted with hatred and contempt.
But it truly lasted for only the blink of an eye.
"Oh! S-sorry! My hand suddenly slipped...!"
In the next moment, Emily had already covered her face with both hands, letting out a sound that was almost a wail. Her acting was masterful.
"Ah, well, congratulations on your engagement, Taylor!"
She finished speaking at an extremely fast pace, bowed deeply, and abruptly turned around. Then, she ran straight toward me as if fleeing.
"I'm sorry, James! I'm feeling a bit unwell...! Can we... go home now...?"
Her face was completely pale, her eyes moist, the perfect image of a fragile victim.
I nodded silently and gently placed my hand on her trembling shoulder.
"......Hmm. Let's go home."
