After saying this, she walked to the window, looking out at the snow-laden night.

Edwin watched her, feeling the distance between them.

After a prolonged silence, he finally managed to say, "Okay."

But as he was about to leave, he impulsively embraced her, his Lips meeting hers.

His touch wasn't aggressive, just heavy breaths against her neck and gentle strokes on her back as he murmured, “Laura, it's not that I hadn't been serious with this relationship. If only-"

But there were no '‘ifs.'

Laura, devoid of hope, wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.

“Get out!" she choked out.

Edwin remained motionless.

In response, Laura dashed into the study, grabbed a stack of design drafts, and threw them at Edwin's feet.

"Edwin! Do I need to make it clearer for you?" she demanded.

“These are your fiancee's wedding dress designs. You're about to get married. What does it mean for you to hold and kiss me now? What am I in all this?"

Crying softly, Laura continued, “How much more do you want to degrade me? Your feelings are your feelings, but what about mine? I've left your world as you wished. Why do you still bother me, why?"

Her face was pale with emotion.

"Don't make me hate you!"

Edwin stood there, watching Laura's tears fall onto the design drafts meant for his future wife.

Each drop represented the pain she must have felt while creating them, and the strength she mustered to move past their shared history.

He realized he had never fully considered the depth of her struggle.

His desire for her, perhaps a mere male impulse, was unfair to her.

When he declared it was over, he expected it to be so, yet here he was, still drawn to her.