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

beseeching

right, hang on. I’ll go and buy it for you now,” Oscar replied as he headed towards

stopped Oscar in his

he asked, “What is

I’m bored. I didn’t bring my phone with me to the

moment, then handed his phone to Amelia.

She refused to believe

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

in shock. She muttered to herself, “Oscar, if you truly didn’t care for me, then why did you use my birthdate as your password? Don’t you know what kind of

a divorce. On the other, Amelia was

you for the rest of my life. I want a real

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 was completely unlike the Oscar she knew to have so many photos of

even recall when these moments had taken place, let alone presented any opportunities in which Oscar had taken such flattering

her body. If he had absolutely no other

for her would not possess so many photos of her. It was like a carefully curated

barely ten photos of Cassie. Besides a few

you have are of me.

then, an incoming call jolted Amelia out of her

across the screen. Upon seeing it, Amelia’s heart immediately

Cassie’s 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 so occupied with work! I said that I’d be a model wife so I won’t blame you this time. Oz, the baby and I both

with such fury that it almost drew blood. With what strength she could muster, Amelia said evenly, “Sorry, Ms. Yard, it’s Amelia. Oz, as you call him, has gone out to buy food for me. I’m afraid he just missed your

she retorted, “Why are you answering my call, Amelia?

food for

which was even documented in a few photographs,

she asked, “How did you know about the

you are, by far, the most filthy and disgusting woman he’s met. It’s not for me

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

I’ll be Oz’s wife soon. No matter what, you’re the

now. You’re the mistress he’s ashamed of. When

this morning? He said that you were filthy and made him sick, and he hasn’t divorced you only because you’re pregnant. He didn’t think you’d be bold enough to

you have nothing else to say to

for a reply, Amelia

away from the door with the blanket over her. He didn’t

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

aside Oscar’s gesture of intimacy. She then asked, “Mr. Clinton, have