Nikolas: I’m sorry.
Nadine: It’s okay. It’s not your fault, Nikolas. Your love for Emily was as close to perfect as it gets. I envy you. I just hope I can find that myself some day.
Yes, Nadine. I, too, hope that one day I can have a husband who will cheat on me and have a child with another (married) woman. A husband who’s considerate enough to take his sexual needs to someone else when I’m recovering from being raped is about as close to perfect as love gets, don’t you think?
Look, I realize this is (allegedly, at least) a soap opera. Couples break up and get back together all the time. Spouses cheat. So all that baggage doesn’t mean Nikolas and Emily were an inherently bad couple.
(I would argue that they were a spectacularly boring couple, but that’s both subjective and another matter entirely.)
It does mean, however, that this never ending litany of their Most Perfect Fairy Tale Love is more than a little 1) revisionist, and 2) gag-inducing.
Look, he loved her. We get it. Really. He loved her so much he couldn’t stay faithful to her for their entire marriage. And she loved him so much she rebounded to a greasy mobster nearly twice age. But they did love each other. Can’t that be enough? Why does it have to be The Love That Ended All Loves?