Chapter 8 Don't Come Crying Back Later

Emma's POV

"If you leave now to follow her, we're done," I said, looking directly into Gavin's eyes.

Surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by irritation. "You're threatening me? A pregnant woman needs help, and you're throwing a tantrum?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "A tantrum? This is our date, Gavin! You promised today would be just us."

"Emma, you're being ridiculous!" His voice rose. "Sophia is pregnant and emotionally unstable. Her distress could harm the baby. Is that what you want? All you care about is your own feelings?"

I fought back tears. "What I care about is your attitude toward our relationship. Time and again, you put her first."

Gavin shook his head, disappointment evident. "I never expected you to be so petty. This is basic human decency, and you're turning it into some kind of competition."

"If caring that my fiancé prioritizes another woman over me is petty, then yes, I'm petty," I replied steadily. "If basic human decency is more important than our relationship, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

His jaw tightened. "Since you're forcing me to choose, fine. I choose to do the right thing."

Through the restaurant's window, I watched as he caught up to Sophia. His hand rested gently on her back, his posture protective in a way he'd never been with me. When Sophia collapsed against Gavin's chest in tears, I felt something inside me break. What truly destroyed me was the triumphant look she shot over Gavin's shoulder—a flash of victory in tear-filled eyes meant only for me to see.

I looked down at the white roses he'd given me half an hour ago. Elegant, perfect, and utterly impersonal.

"Would you like me to box up the remainder of your meal?" the waiter asked.

"No, thank you. Just the check, please."

I caught a movement in my peripheral vision. Glancing up, I saw Blake watching me from across the restaurant. Our eyes met for a brief, uncomfortable moment before I quickly looked away.

"Ms. Garcia? Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. "Let me take care of this." He gestured toward the approaching waiter with the check.

"That's very kind, but I've got it," I said firmly, taking the leather folder before he could. I couldn't bear any more charity today, especially not from a business partner who had just witnessed my humiliation.

"At least let me drive you home," Blake offered, his eyes genuinely concerned.

I felt a flush of embarrassment. Having our agency partner witness this personal disaster was mortifying enough without accepting his pity.

"Thank you, but I'll manage," I replied with as much dignity as I could muster. "I appreciate your concern."

I paid the nearly $500 bill without flinching, nodded a goodbye to Blake, and walked out.

The taxi pulled up to Rachel's brownstone that evening. I couldn't face my apartment, filled with reminders of a relationship that now felt like a decade-long illusion.

Rachel opened the door, took one look at my face, and her smile vanished. "Jesus, Emma. You look like you've seen a ghost. What happened?"

"Can I stay here tonight? I don't want to go home."

Rachel stepped aside immediately. "Get in here. I just opened a 2008 cabernet that's been waiting for a crisis of this magnitude."

As soon as the door closed, tears slid silently down my cheeks. "He chose her," I whispered. "Between me and Sophia, he chose her."

"That bastard," Rachel muttered, pulling me into a hug. "I knew that pregnant widow was trouble!"

I told Rachel everything—the restaurant confrontation, Gavin's dismissal of my ultimatum, and Sophia's smug victory glance.

"I can't believe he'd break up with you over this," Rachel said. "After five years?"

"Five years," I repeated hollowly. "And he didn't even hesitate, Rach. Not for a second."

I closed my eyes, the pieces falling into place. "Five years together, and I can't compete with his brother's widow."

"What are you going to do?" Rachel asked softly.

I took a deep breath. "The Reynolds family helped me through college after my parents died. They've treated me like family..."

"That's not a reason to stay with someone who doesn't love you," Rachel interrupted. "Would you sacrifice your happiness for gratitude?"

I thought about Gavin's recent coldness. "He's changed, Rach. Or maybe he was always like this, and I just couldn't see it. Maybe he never really loved me."

Rachel suggested I turn off my phone. Before powering down, I saw 23 text messages and 17 missed calls from Gavin. I opened only the first text: "Emma, I'm sorry. Please understand my position."

I shut off the phone without reading the rest.

The next morning, Rachel and I walked out of her building to find Gavin leaning against his Bentley, holding an enormous bouquet of white roses.

"Looks like someone knows he's in deep shit," Rachel muttered.

As she passed Gavin, she couldn't resist: "Mr. Reynolds, medical research shows that women publicly abandoned by their fiancés have a 60% increased risk of depression. Your method of 'caring' for Emma is quite unique, isn't it?"

After Rachel left, Gavin approached me. "I was worried when you didn't come home. Why did you turn off your phone?"

I'll revise the entire dialogue exchange:

I looked at him and felt nothing but tired resignation. "We're over, Gavin. Like I said."

"You're overreacting to yesterday," he defended. "Sophia was distraught. I couldn't just ignore her."

"So anytime Sophia calls, texts, or appears, I become an afterthought?" I asked flatly.

He sighed impatiently. "This is temporary. She's going through a difficult time."

I laughed bitterly. "It's been months, Gavin. Her grief has somehow become your primary relationship while I've become the interruption."

"Emma, you don't understand what she's going through," he insisted.

"What I don't understand is why you're so devoted to her," I pressed. "Why is it always you who has to rush to her rescue?"

Gavin's expression tightened. "She has no one else she can rely on right now."

"That's not true and you know it," I countered. "She still has your parents. Your constant attention goes far beyond normal support."

His jaw clenched. "You're being selfish. This isn't about you."

"You're right, it's not about me. It's never been about me," I said quietly. "That's the problem. Five years together, and I've never been your priority."

I took a deep breath. "Admit it, Gavin. You never truly loved me. When I gave you that ultimatum yesterday, you didn't even hesitate before choosing her."

"You're sure you want to break up?" he asked coldly.

"Yes," I said firmly. "I'm very sure."

"Fine. Have it your way," he replied arrogantly. "Don't come crying back later."