And froze.
Through the narrow gap, she saw Jason lying on the bed, half-dressed, his arms wrapped around another woman. Clothes were scattered across the floor.
Then his voice, low and careless, drifted out:
“She’s so naïve. Still thinks I’m at a meeting.”
The Silent Choice
Emma stood there, motionless.
Her world felt like it had stopped spinning.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something — the soft blue flame on the stove, still burning.
She walked toward it slowly. The faint hiss of gas filled the quiet room. The light flickered against her pale face.
She stared at the flame — small, fragile, alive — just like her marriage. It burned only because she kept feeding it.
And then, with a calmness she didn’t recognize in herself, she reached out and turned the knob. The flame vanished.
She cleaned up the breakfast she had cooked earlier, wiped her hands, and walked toward the door.
No shouting. No tears. Just silence.
The Note on the Table
Moments later, the sound of the front door closing startled Jason.
He jumped up, panic flashing across his face.
He rushed out, half-dressed — but the house was empty. On the table lay a folded note.
He opened it with trembling hands.
“You called me naïve. Maybe you’re right.
But if I hadn’t forgotten to turn off the gas today, this house might have gone up in flames — and you wouldn’t have had the chance to betray me.
Thank you for reminding me it’s time to walk away.”
Jason’s face turned pale.
Last night, he’d noticed a small gas leak near the valve. He’d meant to call a repairman — but forgot.
If Emma hadn’t come home, he and the woman in that bed could have paid a terrible price for his carelessness.
A New Beginning
Months later, Emma had moved in with her mother on the outskirts of San Antonio. She opened a small breakfast café near the market.
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