Sorry, My Love Affects Your Love for Others

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It was my boyfriend's birthday party.

His ex-girlfriend showed up wearing the exact same white chiffon dress as me.

One of his friends suggested playing a blindfolded game to liven up the atmosphere - the find your wife game.

With his eyes blindfolded, my boyfriend walked straight over to his ex-girlfriend, embracing her waist and kissing her passionately.

The atmosphere in the room became awkwardly silent.

Everyone stared in shock, not expecting the game to go so wrong.

To everyone's surprise, I started clapping and stepped off the stage, cuing up a nostalgic love song about missing an ex - "I Still Miss You."

***

The speakers filled the room with a dreamy, intoxicating melody.

"I still love you, want to enter your heart, peel away the mist and grab hold of your voice..."

The two on stage kissed as if entranced.

The friend who suggested the game looked embarrassed, covering his eyes and reluctantly tapping Ethan.

Ethan pulled off the sheer scarf, his face flushed with passion.

He was quickly replaced by panic and awkwardness.

"I thought it was you, I was walking towards you..."

Before I, the real girlfriend, could even ask, Ethan was already anxiously explaining himself.

He looked guiltily into my eyes.

"Emma, it was a mistake."

Sophie had been drinking and was wobbly on her feet from Ethan's kiss. She clung to him, looking at me provokingly.

Another friend quickly tried to cover for Ethan.

"It's all Bear's fault for suggesting such a dumb game. He should drink three shots as punishment to apologize to Emma."

Bear came over with a drink, apologizing profusely, but I ignored him and didn't respond.

The atmosphere plummeted again.

Everyone thought I was bottling up my anger, ready to explode, and they shrank back a step.

"Sophie can barely stand, why don't you two go to one of the private rooms and continue there?"

I said in a mocking tone, using the most disdainful words to strike at their deepest insecurities.

Ethan's face darkened.

"I said it was a mistake, don't be so sarcastic."

"Sophie and I broke up years ago, we're just ordinary friends now. I've always treated her as a friend, and she has a boyfriend too. Don't go looking for trouble for her."

"Ethan, don't scare Emma. It was our fault to begin with."

Sophie finally pulled herself upright, looking sweetly at me.

"Emma, just treat what happened as a silly joke, okay? Ethan and I used to be the most intimate, you can't hold it against us forever, right?"

The friends all laughed it off, accepting Sophie's explanation and telling me to forget the incident.

Seeing I didn't argue back, Ethan visibly relaxed, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

If this had happened before, I would have cried, momentarily ripping off my weak facade to question and accuse him in front of everyone, making a scene just to defend my pitiful self-respect that they trampled on.

When Ethan and Sophie broke up, it wasn't long before he accepted my pursuit.

He came from a better family, had better relationships, and had an unparalleled good-looking appearance.

Everyone thought I had used some underhanded tricks to take advantage of the situation and climb up to Ethan's level.

Even though I was misunderstood, I never tried to explain myself.

Ethan chose me, which meant he liked me.

I loved him to the bone and was willing to give everything for him.

I almost had the responsibility of taking care of his diet and daily life engraved in my bones.

However, he took my whole-hearted dedication for granted, while I felt like I never entered his heart.

Until three years ago, when Sophie reappeared in his life, my nightmare began.

He started not coming home at night, getting dead drunk, and rushing to her call.

I had argued and fought with him.

He always stabbed me again when I was most broken, with Sophie.

"She needs me."

"She's having a hard time, only I can help her."

"She's sick, I can't ignore her."

"She's heartbroken, I have to accompany her."

"She's in love again... let me celebrate with her."

We had both collapsed in our hearts over and over again.

I can't even remember how many times we fought because of her.

Afterwards, he would patiently say a few conciliatory words.

I would seize the opportunity to retreat, it would be best to go with the flow.

If I didn't know my place and continued to throw a tantrum, what awaited me would be an endless cold war.

It was the worst time yet when I scolded Sophie for having ulterior motives towards him, for not knowing her place, and for trying to seduce him despite having a boyfriend.

He got angry and disappeared for half a month, and even when I apologized and admitted my mistake, he still wouldn't come home.

In the end, I panicked.

I couldn't eat or sleep, and I reached out to everyone I knew to get him back.

It wasn't until I wrote Sophie a thousand-word apology letter that he finally showed up.

Because I loved him and didn't want to lose him, I made sure that after every argument or cold war, things never dragged on overnight.

I would immediately apologize whenever he softened his tone.

The more I did this, the more I became anxious about losing him.

The tighter I held on, the more I suffered.

Now, I was dealing with severe insomnia.

Even with sleeping pills, I found it hard to fall asleep.

My love had sunk to the ground, nearly exhausted from endless quarrels.

"Emma? Sophie is asking you something."

Ethan's voice broke through my thoughts. I looked at them, leaning against each other, and absentmindedly replied, "Hmm."

"Since that's the case, let's consider this matter settled. Don't bring it up again, and don't sulk. Come over and have some fun with us."

Ethan said softly, as if the earlier "game mistake" was as trivial as a sneeze.

I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, refusing with a seemingly understanding demeanor.

"No, you all have fun. I have something to take care of, so I'll head back first."

"Then please settle the bill before you leave, and make me a cup of kudzu tea. I'll need it when I get back tonight..."

Before Ethan could finish, Sophie pulled him away.

Right in front of me, they began to sing love songs together.

Ethan was completely absorbed in the performance, gazing at Sophie with tender eyes.

Sophie returned his gaze with equal affection.

Looking around, I couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Besides the two of them, I was the only one capturing everyone's attention.

The underlying meaning of the situation was too complex for me to decipher, and I had no desire to analyze it all.

As I left, Ethan's eyes remained fixed on Sophie.

For a brief moment, I felt I had made a mistake.

I shouldn't love him; my love had bound him and affected his ability to love someone else.

This time, I was sure I didn't want to love Ethan anymore.

I left calmly.

Inside, the atmosphere suddenly relaxed, and everyone resumed drinking and laughing loudly.

Not a single person condemned their behavior or questioned whether they owed me an apology.

I was no longer in love, so there was no need to dwell on it.

I was tired and didn't want to keep fixating on them.

There were more important things in life that deserved my energy.

On the way home, I felt an unprecedented sense of calm.

I wasn't tormented by memories of their passionate kisses.

But once I got home and finished washing up, I still struggled to sleep.

Even with sleeping pills, I couldn't find rest.

I couldn't increase the dosage anymore.

Three years of insomnia couldn't simply be cured by deciding to let go.

I used to spend countless nights watching Ethan's sleeping face to get through the long, dark hours.

Now, I would have to rely on myself.

Ethan stumbled home at three in the morning, completely drunk, calling my name incoherently at the entrance.

In the past, no matter how late he returned from socializing, I would always wait for him.

I'd help him take off his shoes, ask if he felt okay, prepare his favorite hangover remedy fruit tea, and give him a massage to help him relax.

But tonight, I did nothing.

Even after he called my name three times, I continued to lie in bed pretending to be asleep.

"Emma!"

He shouted again, his voice laced with evident anger.

I remained unmoved.

Outside, I heard the sound of hurried, unsteady footsteps.

The next moment, Ethan was in the bathroom, throwing up noisily.

The next day, he fell asleep on the bathroom floor, still in his clothes, without even changing his shoes.

I took a deep breath and kicked him hard twice.

Ethan groggily lifted his head and glanced at his watch.

"Why are you just getting up now?" he asked, bewildered.

Usually, I would wake up at five to make him a heartfelt breakfast.

Today, I had the rare luxury of sleeping in until six-thirty. Even though I had only managed a couple of hours of sleep, it was still better than staying awake all night.

He clumsily got up from the floor, ripped off his dirty clothes, and confronted me.

"Why didn't you wait for me to come home? Where's the kudzu tea? Why did you let me sleep in the bathroom all night?"

He was still drunk, and I couldn't be bothered to engage with him.

"Emma, I'm hungry."

"There's a breakfast shop downstairs. You can grab something on your way to work."

I quickly washed up and cleaned the toilet since I would need to use it too.

Ethan frowned in disbelief.

"Emma, are you still mad about last night?"

"I'm really not angry. You said it was a 'mistake,' and I believe you."

Ethan pressed his lips together, suddenly turning on the shower and drenching me with water.

I instinctively gasped.

He showered with me, humming the love song he had sung with Sophie the night before.

How childish!

The entire day, I threw myself into work, not sending Ethan a single message or making a call.

Instead, it was Ethan who took the initiative to text me.

He said he was going to have dinner with Sophie because she had just gone through a breakup.

When you don't love someone, you really can become as tough as iron, with no soft spots.

I replied casually.

[Okay.]

My indifferent attitude shocked him again.

He immediately called me on video.

His brow was furrowed, and he seemed to be in a low-pressure state, ready to explode at any moment.

"Aren't you going to say something? You used to stop me from going out with her."

I smiled gently.

"You and Sophie are just ordinary friends, engaging in normal social activities. What's there to stop?"

His dark expression instantly froze, his face filled with disbelief.

Ethan sent me a photo of him and Sophie drinking together in the evening.

They were as close as they were the night before.

Sophie had her head resting on his shoulder, her hair cascading down to cover half her face, obscuring her expression.

I was surprised because he never shares these kinds of moments.

Usually, I have to pry details out of him, and even then, he reluctantly reveals just a hint.

I can't help but imagine various scenarios based on the little details he shareswhat they talked about, what they did, whether there are signs of them rekindling their relationship.

Sometimes, these thoughts drive me to the brink of mental exhaustion.

While Ethan's distance from me grows, I feel trapped in a dead-end.

Yet now, my heart is as calm as a still pond.

[Enjoy your meal.]

I typed, but the chat with Ethan remained stuck on "typing..." without any response.

I didn't care what he wanted to say or what had happened to bring them so close. I was indifferent to how he might comfort Sophie, who had just gone through a breakup.

In fact, a strange sense of relief washed over me; I no longer had to stay up late waiting for him to come home or wake up early to prepare him a heartfelt breakfast.

Tonight, I didn't bombard him with calls like before.

Instead, I calmly went through my evening routine, took three sleeping pills, and quietly drifted off to sleep.

Miraculously, I fell asleep quickly.

It felt so peaceful, so comfortable.

It was a long-lost sense of relaxation.

Ethan returned early the next morning, his face bruised.

He rubbed his forehead and explained.

"I got drunk last night and fought with Sophie's boyfriend. I spent the night in jail."

I tilted my head and stared at his face for a couple of seconds, not concerned about his pain but asking the question a bystander would care about most.

"Oh, did you win?"

Ethan looked taken aback, frowning slightly.

The air felt thick and silent.

He probably expected me to rush to get ice for his injuries or run downstairs to buy him some ointment for bruises.

When I didn't respond, he silently nodded, offering no further explanation.

It was the weekend, but I had to support an exhibition downtown as a key member of the operations team.

Before I even arrived at the exhibition, I received a message from Sophie.

Opening it revealed a photo of a red heart tattoo with special effects.

My heart sank; that was Ethan's tattoo.

I had insisted he get that design.

I told him it represented my "heart," one that would always beat for him.

"Emma, where did Ethan get that cool tattoo?" Sophie messaged.

"I love sunflowers and have always wanted to get a sunflower tattoo on my arm, but I haven't found a reliable artist. Please tell me, Emma, haha."

At that moment, my already numb heart felt a sharp pain.

It was so vivid and raw.

I was reminded that I had a golden sunflower tattoo on my chest.

Ethan once said, "Get a sunflower tattoo; I love sunflowers..."

Whenever he felt lost in passion, he would gently caress the sunflower, treating it with utmost care.

I mistakenly thought that in those moments, he genuinely cherished me.

But it turned out he was merely reminiscing about someone who loved sunflowers.

Ethan's tattoo was in a private area, on the left side of his groin.

Only the closest people could see it during intimate moments.

Clearly, they had spent the night together again.