A Young Heart White as Frost

What stunned Yvette wasn't just the affair. The woman Yates had been hiding wasn't some vibrant eighteen-year-old girl or an accomplished career woman. She was a divorced breakfast shop owner, ordinary in both looks and background, and three years older than Yates!

Yet the way he looked at her was filled with a love and tenderness that seemed to run bone-deep.

At nine that night, Yates came home looking as cool and unapproachable as ever, his suit immaculate and every hair in place.

Yvette had been waiting on the couch in the dark. The moment he approached, she hurled the stack of photos at him, sending them scattering across the floor.

"Explain yourself, Yates."

He fell silent for a moment before bending down to collect the photos one by one. Yates had always been obsessive about cleanliness, yet now he gently brushed the dust from the woman's face in the pictures.

When he finally looked up, his expression was perfectly calm.

"There's nothing to explain. Yes, I'm in love with her."

Yvette felt as though an invisible hand had closed around her throat. Her breath caught, and her mind went completely blank.

"You're in love with her?" Her voice trembled with every word. "What about me? Yates, when you confessed your feelings to me at sixteen, you stood under the moon with your ears bright red and promised I'd be the only woman you'd ever love! You said you'd never even look at anyone else!"

Her distress didn't move him. All she saw in his eyes was a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.

"I did say that," he admitted calmly. "But Yvette, loving you all these years has worn me out."

He continued with a brutal assessment of their relationship, his voice never rising.

"We dated for four years and have been married for five. I've loved you for nine years. Every time you got upset, whether you were right or wrong, wasn't I always the one who had to grovel until you forgave me?

"When you wanted a limited-edition bag, I'd fly overseas overnight to get it for you. You got upset because another woman looked at me a little too long, so I immediately fired the secretary who'd worked for me for three years.

"And when you craved dessert from the other side of town in the middle of the night, I'd drive halfway across the city to buy it, even if I had an important meeting the next morning..."

One by one, he brought up memories Yvette had always treasured as proof of how much he loved her. Now he was using those same memories as evidence that she'd been unreasonable and demanding.

"I've practically lost all my dignity and sense of self trying to make you happy. Yvette, I'm human, too. I get tired."

He paused, his gaze drifting into the distance.

"Three months ago, you got angry because I forgot to buy your favorite dessert. Nothing I did could make you forgive me. I spent the whole night outside your door, and the next morning, I was still thinking about going to that shop to get you some mango crepes. Then my stomach started hurting so badly that I passed out in front of Claire Wells's breakfast stand.

"She gave me medicine, made me some warm oatmeal to settle my stomach, and gently massaged the cramps away with her slightly calloused hands."

As he spoke, his voice softened into an almost yearning tenderness that Yvette had never heard before.

"With her, I felt a warmth I'd never experienced with you. That was the first time in nine years I'd felt truly comfortable and relaxed. I could finally let go of all that exhaustion."

Yvette was trembling so badly she could barely stand. Her head buzzed, and she struggled to get the words out.

"So... because of one bowl of oatmeal, you're throwing away nine years together? That's all it took for you to fall in love with her?"

Yates turned his attention back to her, his expression complicated.

"Yvette, you're beautiful. In all these years, with all the different women I've met, I've never seen anyone prettier than you. You're incredibly talented, too. Your piano career is thriving, and you're a star in your own right.

"That's exactly why I've always had to look up to you. I've had to watch every word, constantly soothe your temper, and treat you like something precious I could never afford to drop.

"Claire is ordinary. She isn't particularly talented or beautiful, but she worries when my stomach hurts. She makes me hot oatmeal and massages me when I'm exhausted. With her, I've found a kind of peace and... a sense of belonging I've never known before."

A sense of belonging.

Those three words pierced Yvette's heart.

Then what was the home they'd shared for nine years supposed to be?

"Don't worry, though. I'm not divorcing you." His tone shifted, returning to the cool pragmatism of a businessman. "Prescott Group needs a beautiful, accomplished wife like you, someone who can represent the family. Besides, I promised at your parents' graves that I'd take care of you for the rest of your life. After everything we've shared, I won't be completely heartless."

He looked straight at her, drawing a clear and merciless line between them.

"From now on, though, I won't love you anymore. Not even a little. And I don't want you interfering in my relationship with Claire.

"I'm sorry. I know I've broken my promise, but I can't control how I feel. For the sake of all those years I loved you, if you need someone to blame, blame me. Claire has nothing to do with it."

Without another glance at Yvette's bloodless face, he turned and walked out of their home without hesitation.

Yvette collapsed onto the floor. Watching him leave with such cold finality, she felt as though she'd been struck by lightning.

Nine years ago, Yvette had been the most beautiful girl in school, bright and outspoken, while Yates was the aloof, refined heartthrob everyone admired. Everyone said they were made for each other. Yates had fallen for her at first sight and pursued her with a passion that was impossible to ignore.

For Yvette, though, love was harder to accept. Her parents' fractured relationship and years of constant fighting had left her instinctively wary of love and intimacy.

Yates had been determined to win her over. He brought her breakfast every morning without fail, climbed over the school wall and skipped class to buy medicine whenever she was sick, and was always the first to step in front of her whenever someone bullied her. With endless patience and devotion, he'd gradually broken through the defenses she'd built around her heart.

Even after they started dating, he continued to shower her with affection. Still, her troubled childhood had left Yvette fiercely independent, accustomed to shouldering every problem alone. Whenever she saw another girl asking for his number, jealousy would twist painfully inside her, but she'd simply walk away without questioning him.

Then, during the summer after their college entrance exams, a sudden car accident claimed both her parents' lives.

The grief nearly destroyed her, yet she told no one. Somehow, she forced herself to handle every arrangement, including the funeral, entirely on her own.

Yates was overseas on his graduation trip at the time. Somehow, he'd gotten wind of what happened and rushed home in a panic.

Still exhausted from the journey, he burst into the funeral hall and found Yvette dressed in black, so thin and pale she looked like a sheet of paper. His eyes immediately filled with tears.

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees and pulled her cold, trembling body tightly against him.

"Yvette Chandler! Look at me! I'm Yates Prescott! I'm the most important person in your life!

"You can cry in front of me! You can scream, you can let your guard down completely! If you're jealous, question me! If you want to throw a fit, take it out on me!

"There will never be any walls between us! I'll always come to you, and I'll always be there to comfort you! Do you hear me?!"

Something inside Yvette finally broke.

She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably, pouring out all the grief, helplessness, and hurt she'd been holding inside.

Yates was the one who'd coaxed her out of the hardened shell she'd built around herself and encouraged her to live with the carefree openness of a child.

Because of him, she'd spent the next nine years learning to express her feelings, to make demands, to ask him for things and let herself get upset over little matters, just like any girl who knew she was deeply loved.

She'd done it all because she believed his promise.

"I'll always come to you, and I'll always be there to comfort you."

Now, nine years later, he was telling her he was tired.

Tears streamed down Yvette's face as she sobbed uncontrollably, overwhelmed by a pain she could barely endure.

The man who'd once been beside himself whenever she shed even a single tear, who would tenderly kiss her tears away, was gone.

He was the one who'd told her he loved her first.

Why did he have to be the one to stop loving her, too?

Yvette couldn't accept it. She stubbornly clung to the belief that Yates had simply lost his way and would eventually come to his senses.

The next day, she carefully applied her makeup and went to Claire's breakfast shop.

Claire was busy working when Yvette arrived. She was an unremarkable woman, so ordinary she looked almost dowdy.

Yvette took one look at her before sliding a check across the counter, an enormous sum already written on it.

"Ms. Wells, leave Yates Prescott. This is enough for you and your child to live comfortably for the rest of your lives."

Claire stared at the check in surprise. Her eyes reddened, but she made no move to take it.

"Mrs. Prescott... I'll leave. Please... don't make things difficult for Mr. Prescott."

She hurriedly turned away and began packing her things, not even daring to meet Yvette's eyes.

Yvette watched her go, but instead of relief, she felt only a suffocating tightness in her chest.

That evening, she received the news.

Claire had been in a car accident while leaving. The doctors had managed to save her life, but she'd lost the baby she was carrying.

Yates's baby.