Feel the Way You Feel, My Love

Joyce was unaware of what Natalie was planning. “Nat, do you have some tissue?”

“Here.” Natalie rummaged through her pure platinum purse and handed the entire packet to Joyce.

“Thanks,” she sniffled as she extracted a piece to dry her tears. “Nat, I’ve decided to give up,” she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on her feet.

Natalie gaped at her. “Give up on your feelings toward Stanley?”

“Why?”

Joyce took a deep breath, willing herself to suppress the inevitable tears by forcing a smile. “Because I’m tired. I’ve loved him for over ten years, and where has that gotten me? A bruised and battered soul with not much dignity left. I don’t think I can hold on any longer.”

Joyce spun around suddenly, gazing deep into Natalie’s eyes with her own bloodshot ones. “I can see it clearly now. Stanley would rather be with any other woman than me. He will never love me. That is why I’m giving up on him.”

Natalie opened her mouth intending to offer words of advice, but she could come up with none.

It was certainly a pity for Joyce to give up on Stanley after loving him for so many years.

But if Joyce were to continue hanging on, it would just be waiting in vain. For all she knew, Stanley might not change his mind.

Joyce’s youth would just slip by, clinging

that it would be wiser

path. However, the choice to let

really made up your mind?” Natalie looked deep into Joyce’s

for an instant. After a second or two, she gave a

been out of touch with the outside world from living all these years with the fantasy of being with Stanley. There are plenty of eligible men out there, Joyce. Now’s

“You’re right. I can’t be letting my youth wither away hanging on to just one man. From now on, I will meet other men and find one who is even better than Stanley who will love me back. I refuse to accept the fact that I am

sudden movement, Joyce leaped to her feet and raised a glass of champagne. Natalie’s sense of foreboding came a little too late as Joyce

the vicinity on her, Joyce gulped down the entire glass, only realizing her recklessness a moment too

the haste of which she had emptied her drink, Joyce’s face grew red as

stood up and quickly escorted her friend out

and Joyce from a lounge on the second

a middle-aged man appeared, handing Stanley a glass of wine. “Stanley. That’s you,

with a smile. “Mr. Peter, you’re a humorous man.

the man

simple coincidence of someone else with the same name. Excuse me, but it’s getting late. See you at the surgery tomorrow. It will start on time, so please be