After two consecutive months of groveling without gaining a single inch of leeway…
James completely broke down.
He abandoned all sense of dignity, writing me letters and begging my coworkers over and over to deliver them to me.
Unfortunately for him, nobody was willing to help.
Lately, work had been incredibly busy, and I often just slept on the couch in the break room overnight, giving James even fewer opportunities to see me.
An autumn torrential rain arrived without warning.
Heavy clouds pressed down over the city, and by late afternoon, the rain poured down in sheets.
James knelt right in the middle of the deluge, facing the direction of my office. His thin, dark dress shirt was already thoroughly soaked by the storm. It clung tightly to his gaunt frame, highlighting just how fragile and emaciated he had become.
The moisture on his face—impossible to tell if it was rain or tears—dripped continuously from his jawline.
My colleagues gathered by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the spectacle unfold. “That’s Ms. Emily’s guy, right? He’s been kneeling there for almost two hours.”
“With rain this heavy, he’s going to get sick if he stays out there. He’s so stubborn, showing up every day. Can’t he see she wants absolutely nothing to do with him?”
“He looks like he can barely stay upright, he’s swaying so much. Should we get security to help him up?”
“Emily hasn’t said a word, we shouldn’t meddle…”
The cold autumn rain chilled to the bone.
James felt as though he was submerged in ice water; his entire body shivered uncontrollably, yet his forehead burned with a fever.
Blood seeped from his scraped knees, only to be washed away by the relentless rain. He was on the verge of collapsing. He gritted his teeth and viciously pinched his own thighs just to force himself to stay conscious. He stubbornly kept his head raised toward my office, foolishly attempting to win even a fraction of my pity by torturing himself.
I ignored the ridiculous farce.
I remained in my chair, diligently focusing on my work.
Only after I had delegated all my tasks did I stand up and walk over to the water cooler by the window.
“Emily, do you want me to have security chase him away?”
“I feel like if he stays out in the rain much longer, he might actually die…”
Only then did my gaze lightly drift down to where James was kneeling.
His head hung low, his shoulders completely slumped, making it impossible to tell if he was still awake or had passed out.
He had endured for too long, pushed himself too hard.
From dusk until the dead of night—four whole hours—completely ignored by everyone.
The strength holding his body up was entirely depleted.
As a violent wave of dizziness hit him, James’s stiff body suddenly pitched forward.
Unable to hold on any longer, he collapsed face-first onto the cold, flooded steps and lost consciousness.
“Ah! He passed out!”
A gasp echoed from my colleagues behind me.
“Get him to the hospital, quickly!”
I took a sip of hot water, watching indifferently as a few male colleagues hauled James into a car, disappearing from view.
I checked my watch.
It was getting late; time to head home.
The next day, I didn’t see James waiting by the familiar flowerbed.
That torrential rain became our final goodbye; he finally went back, realizing with absolute certainty that I would never forgive him in this lifetime, and accepted it in utter, helpless despair.
Eventually, I received the signed divorce agreement in the mail from James.
I flipped through the pages and noticed he had added an extra clause: he was walking away with nothing, leaving all the assets to me.
I folded the papers neatly and put them away.
Letting all the love and hate from the past be locked away in the bottom drawer of my desk, right alongside them.
From this day forward, all I wanted was my freedom.
