Jenson, my boyfriend, whom I had been with for three years and had worked together on cases, just said those accusatory words that cut deep to me.

I looked at him and suddenly felt it was all so absurd. "You think I was harsh on her?"

"Isn't that exactly what you're doing?" He tugged at his tie irritably. "We just missed our celebratory dinner, and you left without telling me when we were working overtime and sat there with a sour face during dinner. Ashley is sensitive. She cried the whole way home, saying she was afraid you'd be upset with her."

I felt a lump in my throat, and I couldn't get a word out.

When he said he wanted to talk earlier, I'd still held onto a glimmer of hope, thinking he'd ask me why I left and how I got hurt.

But all he talked about was Ashley's grievances.

Everything that had happened all day had been disappointing me, and at that moment, my disappointment finally reached its peak.

I looked away, my tone so calm it betrayed not a hint of emotion. "I understand. It won't happen again."

He froze, as if he hadn't expected me to be so compliant.

Before, whenever we argued over Ashley, I would always stand my ground, only to end up giving in first.

But this time, I didn't even have the strength to argue.

He opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing and just got up and went to the study.

I returned to the bedroom and unlocked my phone.

It was a message just sent by the firm's HR. "Ms. Clayton, your request to transfer to the firm's headquarters in Huvella has been approved. Please report for duty there next Monday."

I'd submitted the request half a month ago.

Back then, I was still hesitating; I just couldn't bring myself to break up like this after three years together.

Now, though, it felt just right.

I began typing a reply to HR. "I'll be reporting for duty on time. Thank you."

I set down my phone, and my gaze fell on the photo of us together on the nightstand.

It was taken on the day I officially joined the firm.

We were standing under the firm's sign; his eyes shining, he told me we'd become top lawyers in the industry together.

I had believed him.

Over the past three years, I'd stood by him through the toughest cases, shared the strongest drinks with him, and been to the courthouse at 4 AM with him.

I'd even stepped in front of him to take the brunt of a client's criticism when the client had tried to give him a hard time.

I placed the photo face-down on the desk and closed my eyes to sleep.

Over the next few days, Jenson and I gave each other the silent treatment.

He left early and came home late, while I was busy with my handover. Though we lived under the same roof, we barely saw each other.

Ashley had been posting frequently on her WhatsApp status lately.

She and Jenson attended hearings in high court together, went to industry cocktail parties together, and had a meal at trendy restaurants together.

Jenson also posted a photo of a female colleague on his WhatsApp status for the first time.

He posted a photo of Ashley standing at the courthouse entrance, with the caption, "Still a newcomer, but her future looks bright."

I stared at the screen, my hands going cold.

I'd won countless court cases, yet he'd never once posted a WhatsApp status about me.

My phone suddenly rang; it was my mom calling. "Denisse, I booked a flight ticket for tomorrow to come visit you. I'd like to talk to you about your marriage with Jenson. It's about time you and Jenson set a wedding date."

I looked at the screenshot of the flight ticket she sent me; it was for a flight tomorrow morning.

I smiled and replied, "Mom, I'll pick you up at the airport tomorrow."

I didn't mention Jenson or the fact that I was about to break up with him.