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.

youth would just slip by, clinging on

decided that it would be wiser

was determined to continue down her current path.

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

After a second or two, she gave a

nodded approvingly. “You have 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

will meet other men and find one who is

feet and raised a glass of champagne. Natalie’s sense of foreboding came a little too late as Joyce yelled, “Stanley, I’m giving up on you! You’re out

her, Joyce gulped down the entire glass, only realizing her recklessness a

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

quickly escorted

Natalie and Joyce from a lounge on the second floor. His expressionless face was rigid

middle-aged man appeared, handing Stanley a glass of wine. “Stanley. That’s you, isn’t it? The Stanley that the lady was

Peter, you’re a humorous man. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but

the

Perhaps it was the simple coincidence of someone else with the same name.