The door slammed shut behind Robert, and the framed photo by the entryway fell and shattered on the floor.

We had bought this place in our third year together. I had handled every detail of the renovation myself, tucking my hopes and dreams for the future into every corner of the house.

Now, the warmth was gone, and all that remained was disappointment.

I opened the closet and took out my clothes, folding them piece by piece before placing them into the suitcase I had prepared earlier.

In the study, I only took the documents I needed and left everything else untouched.

After packing, I arranged for a courier company to send the suitcase to the apartment I had rented.

Once everything was done, I sat on the couch, staring blankly ahead.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a notification.

Mikayla had just posted on her social media.

The caption read, "My cramps are killing me, but someone made me chamomile tea. I'm so lucky."

The post featured a photo of a kitchen.

A man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist stood at the stove, his back to the camera. From the angle of the picture, I could see that he was dressed in a fitted suit with a teddy bear apron tied around his waist.

Even without seeing his face, I could tell from his posture how relaxed he was. This version of Robert was the complete opposite of the cold, distant man he was with me.

In the past, Mikayla's subtle provocations would've sent me into a spiral as I furiously demanded an explanation from Robert.

Now, I simply double-tapped the screen to like the post before blocking both of them.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door, and I received a letter.

I opened it, only to find a wedding invitation printed on a deep crimson card accented with gold leaf.

At the same time, a message from Nathan Crosby popped up on my phone.

Nathan was a steady and reliable man. He was also a venture capitalist I'd been introduced to through a family connection.

When I had finalized my wedding date three days ago, we had agreed to marry that very night.

"Clary, did you get the invitation? This is the design you picked. Let me know if it matches what you had in mind."

I paused for a moment, not expecting him to be this efficient and meticulous. This sense of security was something I had never once received from Robert.

Snapping back to myself, I sent Nathan a confirmation.

Lowering my gaze, I looked at the date printed on the invitation.

It was only three days away, but that was more than enough time.

…

The next morning, I went to the office to tie up any loose ends on my current project.

As soon as I stepped into the workspace, I heard whispers around me.

"Did you see Ms. Glenn's Instagram post? Mr. Fuller made chamomile tea for her himself."

"The whole company's talking about it, and he hasn't denied anything. That's basically a tacit admission."

"I think they actually look good together."

I paused for a moment.

In the past, Robert insisted that office romances were a liability, forcing us to keep our relationship a secret. Now, apparently, he couldn't care less.

The murmurs died instantly the moment my colleagues spotted me, panic and awkwardness flickering across their faces.

Before Mikayla's appearance, they had rooted for Robert and me, knowing that we had built this place from the ground up after we graduated.

I could tell what they were thinking and reassured them, "You don't have to be nervous. They do look good together."

The words had barely left my mouth when an angry voice came from behind me.

"Clarissa!"

Robert emitted a chilling aura as he walked over, his expression dark as his gaze swept across the room.

Everyone lowered their heads at once, not daring to make a sound.

"Come to my office."

He turned and marched inside.

I followed.

The second the door shut, he turned and stared at me in silence.

"What was that about yesterday? Liking Mikayla's post, then blocking me?"

I leaned against the door, keeping my expression neutral.

I said, "The like was a blessing. As for why I blocked you, it's because we've already broken up. There's no reason for me to hold onto your contact information."

Robert's fury only intensified.

"A blessing? Do you have any idea how much your actions messed with Maya? She was racked with guilt all night, apologizing to me over and over, worried that she'd caused a misunderstanding."

I couldn't help laughing at the sheer absurdity of it.

"If she really felt guilty, she should've apologized to me. But we're over. Whatever happens between you and Mikayla has nothing to do with me. Whether she feels guilty or not is none of my concern.

Robert stared at me, his jaw tight as he practically hissed, "Fine, Clarissa. You've got guts, but let's see how long you can keep this up."

He dismissed me with a flick of his hand.

Less than ten minutes after I got back to my desk, a new announcement popped up in the company group chat.

I had been stripped of my position as director of the project department. Mikayla was taking over the core project I had spent six months preparing, one that was days away from completion.

As for me, I was reassigned to the logistics department to handle trivial administrative work.

I stared at the message, and my chest tightened despite myself.

I had already planned to resign. I just wanted to finish the project before leaving. After all, it represented the pinnacle of my career up to this point.

I thought that even if the relationship was over, what we had built together still meant something. But now, I realized that it had only ever meant something to me.

Still, it was for the best. At least it put a clean break to things.

I went on my computer and had just finished drafting my formal resignation when a message came in from Nathan's assistant.

"Ms. Skriver, Mr. Crosby wanted to let you know that your wedding dress is ready. You can head to the boutique after work for a fitting. Please let me know if any issues arise."

After work, I went to the bridal boutique.

The staff smiled and greeted me. "Ms. Skriver? Mr. Crosby mentioned that you'd be coming. Your dress is in the fitting room."

The satin gown was simple and structured, with clean lines that made my figure look tall and elegant.

I stood in front of the mirror, looking at myself as a flood of memories came rushing back.

Robert once said that when the company stabilized, he would get me the best wedding dress in the city and throw me a wedding that would be the envy of everyone we knew.

I had believed him.

I waited, year after year, until the anticipation wore itself down to utter disappointment.

My nose stung, and my tears fell before I could stop them.

I wasn't crying because of Robert. I was crying for the version of myself who had foolishly wasted seven years loving him.

Just then, a chorus of respectful greetings came from the front of the shop.

"Welcome, Mr. Fuller."

My body stiffened as I slowly turned around.

Robert stood at the entrance, staring at me with surprise written all over his face.

He quickly noticed the redness around my eyes, and for a fleeting second, his gaze softened with a trace of pity as he walked over to me.

"The dress looks good on you. If you like it, I'll get it for you."

He paused before adding, "I know I've neglected you lately, but that's because you haven't been listening. You keep pushing me into things I'm not ready for. If you can just be patient and listen to me, I promise I'll marry you once the company stabilizes."

He thought I had come here alone to try on a wedding dress because I desperately wanted to marry him.

I was about to explain when Mikayla's soft and gentle voice came from behind him. "Rob, I picked my dress. Have you chosen your suit yet?"

She walked over in a white wedding dress and affectionately slipped her arm through his.

Robert's body stiffened. He instinctively tried to push her away, but was afraid of making it too obvious, so he settled for a sloppy excuse.

Robert explained, "Clary, don't get the wrong idea. Mikayla just wanted to see what it's like to try on a wedding dress, and she doesn't really have any male friends. You know how women are. They see something online and want to try it for themselves."

There was a time when I begged him, over and over again, just to go try on a wedding dress with me. He said I was being influenced by the internet, that a wedding dress was just a piece of clothing, and I was making a big deal out of nothing.

Yet here he was, carving time out of his schedule to accompany Mikayla to try on wedding dresses.

I didn't feel like saying another word. I turned and started to leave, but Mikayla quickly stepped forward and grabbed my wrist.

"Clarissa, Mr. Fuller is telling the truth. If you're still upset, you can take it out on me!"

Before I could react, her body tilted, and she collapsed toward the floor with a soft cry.

"Ouch!"

She gently clutched her ankle, her face turning pale as if she were in real pain. "Rob, I think I twisted my ankle. It really hurts."

Upon seeing this, Robert shoved me aside and rushed to her, steadying her as he looked at me, anger blazing in his eyes.

"Clarissa Skriver, you've gone too far!"

He scooped Maya into his arms and marched out of the boutique without the slightest hesitation.

As I watched his retreating figure, all I felt was a bitter sense of irony.

This wasn't the first time Mikayla had used such a pathetic stunt to frame me. I used to think that Robert was just being misled, but now I understand.

He wasn't blind. He just didn't care.

He had never loved me, which was why he was so willing to take her side every single time without ever getting the full picture.

When I got back to my apartment, my phone kept lighting up with messages, all from Robert's business account.

"Clarissa, get to the hospital right now and apologize to Mikayla. If you don't, I'm pushing the wedding back indefinitely. I don't care if your grandmother's dying. I'm not backing down!"

The messages were radiating pure, unadulterated selfishness.

He even dragged Grandma into it.

I was so angry that my stomach churned.

I deleted and blocked his business account without another thought. After that, I logged into the company's HR portal and formally submitted my resignation.

The moment it went through, it felt as if the heaviness that had been sitting on my shoulders for so long had finally lifted.

…

Meanwhile, Robert had just finished sending his threats, his expression dark with irritation.

"Rob, do you think Clarissa's really mad at me?" Mikayla murmured. "It's all my fault. If it weren't for me, none of this would've happened."

"It's not your fault. She's the one being unreasonable," he reassured her, his tone laced with certainty. "Don't worry. I'll make this right for you."

In the past, whenever he used the wedding as leverage, I would always give in first. He believed this time would be no different.

But early the next morning, he got a call from the HR department.

"Mr. Fuller, Ms. Skriver has tendered her resignation. She's very adamant about it. We couldn't persuade her to stay."

The moment Robert heard that, his anger flared, and he drove straight to our apartment.

But when he opened the door, all of my belongings were gone.

He pulled out his phone and tried to message me from his business account, only to realize that account had been blocked, too.

A flicker of unease rose in him, and it peaked the moment he saw the wedding invitation on the table.

I was listed as the bride, but Robert wasn't the groom.

In an instant, all the color drained from his face. The invitation slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor.