Mock Funeral: Deep Love Cannot Overcome All Difficulties

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.

Breaking character, her voice softened, "Look, I got held up that day. I'll swing by and check on Emily soon, okay? Let's drop it."

I snorted.

If she'd bothered to even check in on Emily once or cared to ask how she was, she wouldn't be spouting such nonsense.

It's been nearly ten months since she last saw Emily, on New Year's Eve I begged her to come home.

"Drop it?" I sneered, "Who's holding it here? Take another step and I'm calling security."

Jane seemed knocked off her script by my sharp tone, standing there gaping.

A moment later, she went white as a sheet and slapped me, "Mike, how can you treat me this way!"

Really, how had I treated her?

We grew up together, our families intertwined, close as can be—yet somehow that wasn't enough.

Tasked with carrying our families' hopes, I went abroad for college.

With Jane constantly on my mind, I compressed a two-year exchange program into an intense eighteen months. Even when I fell ill and ended up in the hospital, I pushed through my coursework, nearly giving myself pneumonia from the stress.

During that time, I made sure to fly back every three months to spend time with Jane, worried that any longer apart might lead her to drift away from me.

Little did I know that Winston's sudden appearance would throw everything off course.

She accused me of harboring too much ambition, suggesting that one departure for education meant I'd easily leave again.

But I never truly left her; I even ran her family business meticulously and kept it still as she had no interest in it.

My love was steadfast; I proved it at every turn.

I tolerated her running back to Winston time and again, our marriage, unlicensed and hollow, merely a façade for her indiscretions...

Yet even my tolerance wasn't enough to fulfill Emily's final wish.

When Emily passed, it felt like my heart went with her, and all my former vitality extinguished.

I sighed deeply, my expression solemn, "You know full well how I've treated you."

"We didn't bother with a marriage license, there's no property to fight over, and I'll make sure my assistant hands over your parents' business to you."

"Just go, Jane. And let's not go through this again."

She froze, the gravity of my words sinking in.

She hadn't expected the man who once clung to her side to now push her away so decisively.

It dawned on her that walking out this time might mean never coming back.

A trace of desperation flickered in Jane's eyes, her instincts battling her pride, yet her words still rang with condescension.

"Mike, I've told you time and again, that Winston and I are just friends. I'm looking after him because he's sick."

"Really? Getting jealous over nothing? Why do you always think the worst of me, never trust me?"

Normally, such blatant gaslighting would've set me off.

But this time, I felt absolutely nothing.

She was still lying, even now.

I closed my eyes, suddenly unsure why I'd ever fallen for her.

This love lasted thirty years.

Thirty years is a lifetime of fidelity on my part, managing our businesses, and playing the fool whenever she stepped out.

I never demanded much, just some semblance of respect, to be seen as a man rather than a fool.

But even that was asking too much from her.

I played the recording from that night, their voices filling the room with uncomfortable truths.

Jane froze, her complexion turning ghostly, then in a fit of rage, she grabbed my phone and hurled it to the ground.

"You recorded that..." she gasped, "How could you do this to me!"

She swung at me again.

But this time, I blocked her.

Once, I would've endured endless indignities for her love.

Not anymore.

"Jane, the security's on their way. Try to keep some dignity."

I was firm, asking her to leave once more.

Winston, eager to avoid a bigger scene, tugged at her arm.

"Let's head out, Jane. I get that Emily was faking her illness, but competing with her over you was wrong. It's just led to more trouble."

Faking her illness?

My brain stalled, struggling to process.

Before I knew it, my fist had met Winston's stupid face.