Too Much to Bear My Love

Oscar suddenly stood up. Apprehensively, Amelia asked, “Mr. Clinton, are you leaving?”

Oscar walked over. He leaned over Amelia, almost pinning her onto the bed. The tips of their noses brushed against each other.

Enthralled, Amelia had no way of reining in her wildly beating heart. Her eyes darted from side to side, desperately avoiding Oscar’s intent gaze.

“What do you feel like eating? I’ll go and get it,” he said.

That was the last thing Amelia had expected to hear from Oscar at that moment.

“Now that you’re having a baby, you should eat a little more than usual. Tell me what you’re craving; I’ll buy it for you.” Oscar’s cool tone belied his apparent discomfort.

Amelia couldn’t believe her ears. This was Oscar’s first time showing concern for her baby.

“Mr. Clinton, are you actually concerned about me?” Amelia asked in disbelief.

“Enough of that. Tell me, quickly, what you want to eat,” Oscar insisted.

Amelia found the situation hilarious. Oscar seemed a lot more human now in comparison to the guarded, defensive man he usually was.

“Since you’ve offered, I can’t possibly say no. All right then. On account of Mr. Clinton’s generosity, I’d like to order a pasta arrabbiata, stewed beef, and mango sorbet to top it all off… I’m spoilt for choice! How can I decide?” Amelia asked in exaggerated despair.

Seeing that Oscar had let her off the hook for the matter with the photographs, the sudden feeling of liberation dared Amelia to joke with Oscar, something she seldom did.

Oscar only glared at her. “Amelia, don’t go overboard.”

“Don’t be so petty, Mr. Clinton. Can’t you even bear to buy these for me?” Amelia wheedled, pouting.

Oscar realized that he rather liked seeing this feminine side of Amelia.

“Wait and see; I’ll buy it all for you. Anything else?” he queried.

“I want you. Can I have that?” Amelia asked playfully.

Oscar’s face once again assumed a sober look. “You’re only allowed to say such things to me in the future. I forbid you from flirting with any other man like that.”

Flirting?

Amelia thought she had merely been casually teasing Oscar. She was rather distressed that it had been seen as flirtatious. It seemed that everyone perceived things rather differently indeed.

“Since you object, Mr. Clinton, I won’t say things like that anymore,” Amelia said, sulking.

grit his teeth in frustration.

wide, beseeching

on. I’ll go and buy it for you

cry stopped

around, he asked,

my phone with me to the hospital. Can I borrow yours

his phone to

Amelia looked at him. She refused to believe that

a couple of games inside. You can take a look if you’re bored. I’ll be off, then.” He turned quickly

for me, then why did you use my birthdate as your password? Don’t you know what kind of

the other, Amelia

you. If I could, I would want to depend on you for the rest of my life. I want a real relationship with you, not

Oscar’s phone, then opened his photo album. As she scrolled through it, she realized to her surprise that it contained many photos of her, most of them taken when she was sleeping. In a few, a single blanket covered her bare body; in others, she had fallen asleep fully clothed. The photos of Amelia numbered more than a thousand in sheer variety. It

as she walked ahead. Amelia could barely even recall when these moments had taken place, let alone presented any

moist. She’d always believed that Oscar liked her solely for her body. If he had absolutely no other feelings for

who had no affection whatsoever for her would not possess so

through each photo, she realized with a start that there were barely ten photos of Cassie. Besides a few snapshots of scenery scattered here and there, the rest of Oscar’s photo album was practically a shrine

phone in her hand, she mumbled, “Oscar, all the photos you have are of me. Doesn’t that mean that you don’t hate me too much? Why can’t we spend the rest of

incoming call jolted Amelia out of

Upon seeing it, Amelia’s heart

excited chatter floated across the line. “Oz, I went for a check-up with your secretary today. The doctor said that the baby’s very healthy.” A note of betrayal crept into her voice. “You promised that you’d come with me, but you’re always

evenly, “Sorry, Ms. Yard, it’s Amelia. Oz, as you call

moment. Then she retorted, “Why

buy food for me,” Amelia

which was even documented in a few photographs, how can you be so shameless as to stay with Oz?”

paled. Shakily, she asked, “How did you know

got to know about it? Of course, Oz was the one who told me. Oz said you are, by far, the most filthy and disgusting woman he’s met.

“Ms. Yard, I don’t think it’s your place to comment on the kind of woman I am. Even if I’m

snickered. Keep lying to yourself, Amelia. I’ll be Oz’s wife soon. No

the mistress he’s ashamed of. When

sick, and he hasn’t divorced you only because you’re pregnant. He didn’t think you’d be bold enough to have an affair in

jaw. “Ms. Yard, if you have nothing else to say to me, I’ll be

waiting for a reply, Amelia immediately

Oscar returned with a few bags full of food, Amelia was facing away from the door with the blanket over her.

Oscar approached Amelia only to be greeted by her tear-stained face. Taken aback, Oscar hurriedly set down his bags and pulled a chair over. He sat down and reached over to dab the tears from her cheeks. “Why are you crying?” he

intimacy. She then asked, “Mr. Clinton, have you bought the