After our company loses the eight-million-dollar deal, my girlfriend, Lindsey Corwell, gets mad at me for the first time ever. She goes as far as to heavily insult me in front of everyone in the company.

Once we get home at night, she retains her professionalism.

"There's no such thing as a romantic relationship between us when it comes to work. The fact that you screwed up still stands. This is your fault."

Meanwhile, Lindsey's junior, Gerald Whitaker, sends me an apologetic text.

"This is all my fault, Julian. I'm the one who screwed up the deal. Lindsey bought me a cupcake to comfort me. It's pretty delicious. Let me buy you a cupcake as well."

The next morning, Lindsey chucks the breakfast I've made for her into the trash can without hesitation.

"I told you many times that I don't eat breakfast!"

At work, my colleague, Joshua Miller, suddenly approaches me and begins sharing gossip with me.

"The newbie really is fearless, eh? He actually had the guts to start a conversation with Ms. Corwell and even bought her breakfast! Guess what happened after that? Not only did she eat it, but she also claimed that it was tasty!"

Oh, so that's how it goes, huh?

Whatever.

Anyway, the woman who keeps texting me is still trying to get me to switch lovers.

"If worse comes to worst, I don't mind being a side chick! C'mon, give me a try!"

I purse my lips in return.

"It's fine. You shall be my official girlfriend now."

Right after submitting my resignation to HR, I was summoned to Lindsey Corwell's office.

As soon as I walked in, a cup of coffee came flying at me. The impact felt like a sharp slap across my face. It stung.

On the side, the man sitting on the leather couch stared wide-eyed, looking deeply aggrieved.

"Ms. Corwell, please don't blame Julian. This is my fault. The failed contract deal was partly my responsibility. If anyone should leave, it should be me, not Julian."

Lindsey's fury was plain to see. She almost never revealed her emotions like this, yet it was for Gerald Whitaker again.

"Are you unhappy about my criticism yesterday? Is that why you went to HR to submit your resignation and pressure Gerald? You were his supervisor. When the contract fell through, the responsibility was yours. How could you push all the blame onto him?

"Do you know how people in the company see him now? They all think you couldn't tolerate him, the so-called troublemaking intern, and were forced to resign because of him. Go out there right now and clear things up."

I had thought she couldn't bear to lose me after seven years together. In reality, she only feared the company would turn on Gerald once I was gone.

Gerald pulled out a tissue and blew his nose, then casually tossed the crumpled, mucus-stained paper to the other end of the couch.

Lindsey frowned almost imperceptibly. Three seconds later, she walked over, picked up the tissue, and threw it into the trash.

I froze for a moment. My heart tightened as a dense ache spread through my chest.

In our second year together, Lindsey and I had watched "Buddy's Last Journey" at home. It was a classic tearjerker.

I had gotten emotional, and my eyes reddened as I reached for a tissue.

She had shoved me away in disgust. "Sorry, I'm a germaphobe. Please clean that up yourself."

She went straight to the bathroom and scrubbed herself repeatedly, as if she had touched something toxic.

A quiet, bitter laugh escaped me. Even a germaphobe like her could make exceptions.

I met Lindsey's gaze calmly. "I resigned because I didn't want to work here anymore, nothing else."

She didn't believe me. "Why today of all days? You could have resigned earlier or later. It's clearly because of the contract that fell through yesterday. Julian Stark, don't drag Gerald into your little schemes, or don't expect me to go easy on you."

I sighed. I no longer felt the need to argue with her like I used to. Around Lindsey, my emotions were like water in a cracked vessel, flowing in only to drain away just as quickly.

She had been there when the contract fell apart.

By the time the negotiations were nearly over, the other side had already agreed to our deal. Then, Gerald suddenly rushed in, insisting on toasting our partner, Mr. Howard Shaw.

Mr. Shaw was already scowling with irritation, yet Gerald seemed completely oblivious.

As a new intern had just walked in, he actually forced Mr. Shaw to drink with him. I had no idea where he got the nerve.

Mr. Shaw got angry. I held him back and plastered a smile, apologizing to Mr. Shaw on his behalf.

I made him take three drinks as punishment, but he suddenly shouted, "Julian, I'm just an intern, but that doesn't mean you can push me around!"

Lindsey's face darkened like she could kill, and I thought it was because the deal, which should have gone through, had fallen apart. I hadn't expected it was because I had made Gerald apologize and drink those three shots.

I was exhausted. "I really didn't cause a scene, Lindsey. Let's break up."

With that, I ignored her stormy expression, packed my things, and left the office.

Back home, I started packing my suitcase again. Breaking up came with its own hassles—there were too many things, and packing took forever.

Suddenly, my hand froze. In the drawer lay a shirt that wasn't mine, smothered in kiss marks that betrayed the wearer's eager passion.

I tossed the shirt in the trash and took a quick photo to send to Lindsey.

She kept sending me texts to explain, but I ignored them and dialed another number.

"Didn't you say you wanted to climb the ladder?"

On the other end, Jessie Hartwell screamed with excitement. She had offered to help me pack, but I refused. If Lindsey saw her, a conflict might erupt. It was better to avoid unnecessary trouble.

I still had a condo on the west side of the city. Once this month's bonus came in, I could pay off the mortgage completely. Finally, I would have a place to call my own. The thought brought me a surprising sense of warmth.

The doorbell rang just then. I thought it was the movers, but when I opened the door, it was Lindsey.

I froze, wondering if I was seeing things. Last year, when my appendix flared and I nearly passed out at home, I had called her to take me to the hospital.

She had been completely indifferent. "I'm at work, Julian. You're an adult. Can't you handle a simple 911 call?"

Yet last week, when Gerald accidentally spilled warm water on his hand at the office and cried out, she hugged him in public and personally drove him to the hospital.

She never left work early, except for Gerald. Only he could make her break her own rules.

I hadn't expected to be the lucky exception today.

She glanced at the packed suitcase, and for a split second, a trace of panic crossed her face.

"What is this? Are you trying to make a scene or force me to yield by breaking up with you? I already sent you a message. That shirt belongs to Gerald. He left it at our place by accident.

"The day he got caught in the rain, I had him come up for some warm tea. His shirt got ruined, so he changed before leaving."

I narrowed my eyes as I recalled the incident.

That had been two weeks ago when I was on a business trip abroad. On my return, I got caught in a heavy rainstorm and asked Lindsey to pick me up. She said she was working late and told me to take a taxi myself.

When I got home, I noticed the unfinished ginger tea on the coffee table. I had assumed she made it for me, but it turned out I had just picked up what someone else had left behind.

Lindsey's expression grew slightly awkward as she thought of that.

"Don't read too much into it."

I shook my head calmly. "I'm not. It doesn't matter anymore."

Lindsey stared at me for a long time with a strange look. After a while, she hesitantly asked, "Why aren't you mad?"

It turned out she had known I was angry before, but she had never cared. Every time, it was just her scolding me, calling me petty, and saying my heart saw filth in everything.

Just as I was about to tell her I was moving out, Lindsey's phone rang. Gerald was shouting on the other end, claiming someone had bullied him.

Lindsey shot me a sharp glare and let out a cold, mocking laugh. "So you were waiting here for me, Julian. Clever little stunt."

Before I could even process what she meant, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into her car.

Inside, the scent of a man's cologne filled the air. It was the same one Gerald wore. A plush dog dangled from the rearview mirror, matching Gerald's WhatsApp avatar.

Ever since I started working at Lindsey's company, I had avoided riding in her car. She said it was to prevent gossip and keep our relationship under wraps. The space I could no longer enter had long since been taken by someone else.

The familiar ache of bitterness in my chest had vanished, replaced by a cold, resigned clarity.

As soon as we arrived at the company, Lindsey yanked me out of the car with force. I twisted my ankle and fell to the ground.

She ignored me completely and sneered. "What are you playing at?"

She signaled her bodyguard, who grabbed me by the collar and dragged me inside like I was nothing.

They hauled me straight to my old workstation. My wrists and knees were scraped and bleeding, and I kneeled there like a beaten dog.

Lindsey held Gerald protectively in her arms and warned, "I don't care who instructed you to bully an intern. This company isn't Julian's to run. If you want to remain here, you'd better show some courage."

Joshua Miller's face drained of color as he froze in place. He had already sent me a message on the way here.

After I left, Gerald had been under his supervision.

What could a lazy, manipulative intern like him actually achieve?

He even botched a client's order, and when Joshua reprimanded him, Gerald ran straight to Lindsey to complain.

Gerald rested his head on Lindsey's shoulder, and the two of them seemed completely oblivious to everyone around them.

"Ms. Corwell, I really don't know what I did wrong. I just saw the client was overweight and ordered a diet meal, and Joshua yelled at me…"

Lindsey bent slightly to rub his head, assuring him she would make things right.

Her cold gaze swept over the group. "I know Julian got along well with all of you. You might feel the urge to vent your anger on someone now that he's gone, but this was entirely his own mistake. Gerald has nothing to do with it, and he should not be punished."

She leveled them with another icy stare. "I'll make it clear again. If you want to stay, show some courage. If not, leave now."

Everyone went pale, fully grasping the weight of her words.

Derrick Brown, whom I had personally recruited, stepped forward. He shut his eyes tightly, whispered an apology, and struck me across the face.

Lindsey remained unmoved. "What about the rest of you?"

The rest of them—friends, allies, anyone I had crossed paths with—piled on, slapping me without pause.

Blood ran down the corners of my lips. My head swirled, my ears buzzed, and my thoughts were starting to blur.

Gerald let out a short, mocking laugh. "Ms. Corwell, just look at him. How pathetic. He looks like a fat pig."

Lindsey's eyes were cold as ice, and her words were merciless. "A manipulative schemer like him doesn't belong in this company."