Loving Me Too Late

I heard what he said.

Lying on the bed, I panted heavily. My eyes turned red.

I met Henry at a musical.

I was a dancer on stage, and he was a musician for the show. Our teacher introduced us.

The first time I saw him, I was captivated by his dedication to music.

During rehearsals, I was careless and almost fell off the stage.

Henry caught me in time, cushioning my fall so I didn't get hurt. But his right leg fractured.

At that time, I was trembling in fear.

He hugged me tightly.

"What are you afraid of? I don't want any compensation from you. Besides, even if my leg is broken, it won't affect me much. But for you, a fracture in your leg would change your entire life."

I fell into his gentle embrace because of those words.

Unfortunately, I now realized that dedication to music didn't mean loyalty in love.

He loved the way I danced, but he could just as easily fall for Queenie's youthful movements.

I was half-asleep and vaguely heard Henry push the door open.

He was holding a bowl of my favorite oatmeal with fruit. "Wake up, honey. You can't just sleep without eating anything. It's bad for your health."

I remained still.

For once, Henry didn't get angry. Instead, he carefully helped me sit up in bed and spoke softly.

"Even if you're mad at me and don't want to eat, at least think about the baby. The baby needs nutrition. Eat this, and you can take out all your anger on me afterward."

For the first time in forever, he was coaxing me with patience.

I couldn't help but glance at him.

Henry held the bowl with a flicker of eagerness in his eyes.

The last time he was this gentle and considerate, he had a favor to ask.

He wanted me to give up my spot in the dance competition for Queenie.

"You're already pregnant anyway, so you can't compete in the dance contest. Why not let Queenie have the spot? She's been wanting to join this competition for so long."

I suddenly realized that he was asking for something again.

Calmly, I took the bowl from Henry's hands and looked at him expressionlessly.

"Go ahead, tell me. What do you want this time?"

Henry gave an awkward smile. "Honey, what are you talking about? Even if I didn't want anything from you, making you food is something I should do."

"If you won't say it, I'll take it that nothing's going on."

His expression changed immediately, and as if afraid I'd refuse, he quickly blurted out, "It's just that Queenie wants to eat your pot roast and creamy clam chowder. I've already bought the ingredients. Just make them tomorrow, and I'll bring them to her."

Even though I had been prepared for this, his words still felt as though a sword was slowly piercing my heart, inch by inch.

At this point, even if I had been oblivious before, I finally understood that I had long been worthless in everyone's eyes.

Growing up, I was nothing more than a maid in my own home. I was ordered around by Queenie.

My parents only doted on her, wishing they could give her everything in the world.

She had the happiness I could only dream of.

She got to learn painting and dancing, while I had to beg my parents for half a month just to get my school tuition.

I even only got to dance because of Queenie.

She didn't want to go, but since the fee had already been paid, I volunteered.

Later, Queenie became jealous and started making a fuss about wanting to dance.

To motivate her, my parents allowed me to continue learning dance.

Even so, I wasn't even worthy of owning a pair of ballet shoes.

Every time I danced, I was barefoot.

Queenie would always step on me purposely, making everyone laugh.

"Stephanie, you look so ugly dancing barefoot!"

Then, Henry proposed to me, and I married him with no hesitation.

I thought I could escape those tormenting days.

But now, I realized that those days never really ended.

They just changed form.

The person tormenting me had become my husband.