That night.
The clock showed 9 PM.
Emma was already asleep. Lily was also already asleep.
The house was quiet. The house was silent.
Marcus stood in front of the bookshelf in his work room. Marcus's private work room on the upper floor of the mansion.
Marcus looked at rows of books. Books about business. Books about investment. Books about strategy.
But Marcus didn't take those books.
Marcus looked for something else.
In the corner of the shelf, there was one book that looked different. The book was smaller. Older. The book cover looked worn.
Marcus took that book.
A poetry book.
Marcus opened the book.
First page: "Selected Poems by Langston Hughes".
Marcus opened the next pages.
On each page, there was a poem written by hand. Small notes beside the poems.
Those notes were Marcus's handwriting. Marcus's handwriting when he was still young.
Marcus read one poem.
"Love is a choice every day to stay together. Not just about feeling, but about choosing."
Marcus stood silent. Reading the poem over and over.
Marcus went to the dark family room.
Marcus sat on the large sofa that faced the big window.
The window overlooked the city. Lights from buildings at night.
Marcus opened the poetry book again.
Marcus read poem after poem.
There was a poem about loneliness. There was a poem about hope. There was a poem about love.
Marcus read slowly. Every word, Marcus thought about.
Marcus didn't know why he was reading this poetry book tonight. He hadn't read this book for years.
But tonight, Marcus wanted to read.
Emma couldn't sleep.
Emma left her room. Emma wanted to get a glass of water from the kitchen.
Emma walked slowly. Emma didn't want to wake anyone else.
When Emma passed the family room, Emma saw light.
Light from the desk lamp in the family room.
Emma saw Marcus sitting on the sofa.
Marcus was reading a book.
Emma stopped. Emma looked from far away.
Emma saw Marcus more closely.
Marcus's face looked different.
Usually, Marcus's face was cold. Marcus's face looked like a machine ready to work.
But tonight, Marcus's face was gentle.
Marcus's eyes focused on reading. But there was something gentle in Marcus's eyes.
Marcus read slowly. Marcus thought about every word.
There was something in the way Marcus read. There was something human.
Emma saw the book Marcus was reading.
A poetry book.
Emma never knew that Marcus read poetry.
Emma thought Marcus only read business books. Books about strategy. Books about money.
But Marcus was reading poetry.
Poetry is about emotion. Poetry is about feeling.
Marcus was reading poetry.
Emma smiled.
A natural smile. An unintentional smile.
Emma saw Marcus reading a poetry book alone in the quiet night.
Emma saw Marcus who looked gentle. Looked humane. Looked like someone who had a heart.
Emma thought: This is a side of Marcus that Emma never saw before.
A hidden side.
A gentle side.
But Marcus knew Emma was there.
Marcus heard Emma's footsteps. Slow footsteps but still audible.
Marcus saw Emma from the corner of his eye.
Marcus saw Emma smile.
Marcus felt something in his chest. Something strange.
Something that made Marcus want to stop hiding himself anymore.
Marcus made a decision.
Marcus didn't look away. Marcus kept reading.
But Marcus knew Emma was still there. But Marcus let her stay.
Marcus let Emma see him in this position. In a vulnerable position. In a weak position.
Emma saw Marcus keep reading. But Marcus wasn't anxious. Marcus wasn't embarrassed.
Marcus just read.
Emma felt something changed again.
Yesterday, Marcus smiled in the morning. Marcus defended Emma at the office. Marcus cared for Lily.
But tonight, Marcus let Emma see Marcus's gentle side.
A side that Marcus hid from the world.
Emma walked slowly toward Marcus.
Emma sat on the same sofa. But a bit away from Marcus. Emma didn't want to disturb.
Marcus saw Emma sit down.
"Can't sleep?" asked Marcus in a gentle voice.
"Yes," answered Emma. "Wanted to get water. But saw Marcus reading poetry."
Marcus didn't answer right away.
"Poetry?" asked Emma.
"Yes," answered Marcus briefly.
"Does Marcus like poetry?" asked Emma.
Marcus stopped reading. Marcus thought about that question.
"Used to like," answered Marcus finally. "When I was young. But now... haven't read for a long time."
"Why start reading again?" asked Emma.
Marcus didn't know the right answer.
"Don't know," answered Marcus honestly. "Just tonight wanted to read."
Emma looked at the poetry book.
"Can I see?" asked Emma.
Marcus handed the poetry book to Emma.
Emma opened the book.
Emma read one poem.
"Love is a choice every day to stay together. Not just about feeling, but about choosing."
Emma read the poem over and over in her heart.
Love is a choice.
Not just feeling.
Emma saw small notes beside the poem.
Notes written in ink that had already faded.
The note said: "True. This is the truth."
The note was Marcus's handwriting. Marcus's handwriting when he was young.
Emma felt tears in her eyes.
Emma didn't know why she was crying.
Maybe because Emma suddenly understood.
Understood that Marcus was once young. Once believed in love. Once believed in choice.
But then, Marcus became cold. Marcus became a machine.
Until now. Until Emma came.
"Are you okay?" asked Marcus.
"Yes," answered Emma while wiping tears.
Marcus saw Emma crying.
Marcus saw Emma's tears.
Marcus felt his heart melting.
Marcus's heart that had been closed and cold all this time. Marcus's heart that was buried in business and money.
Marcus's heart was melting.
Marcus didn't know what to do.
Marcus had never felt this before.
Marcus felt like wanting to get closer to Emma. Felt like wanting to hold Emma.
But Marcus was afraid.
Afraid if Emma would reject him.
Afraid if Emma would think Marcus was strange.
So Marcus just sat.
They both sat side by side. Not talking.
Just listening to the sounds of night. Sound of wind outside the window. Sounds of the city far away.
Emma still held the poetry book.
Marcus sat calmly.
After a few minutes.
"Thank you," said Emma.
"For what?" asked Marcus.
"For showing Marcus's gentle side," answered Emma. "The side that is human."
Marcus didn't know what to answer.
"Before, Emma thought Marcus was a machine," continued Emma. "But now Emma knows Marcus is someone who has a heart."
Marcus looked at Emma.
Emma's eyes had stopped crying. But Emma's eyes were still watery.
"Thank you too," said Marcus slowly. "Thank you because Emma is here. Emma made Marcus remember that Marcus is human."