After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed.

She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him.

She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes.

Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes.

My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly.

"See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says.

It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion.

Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers.

And I've already broken up with her.

From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.

"Get this proposal done by the end of the day. It's urgent," Beatrice Campbell ordered in an icy voice.

As soon as she finished speaking, she slammed a thick stack of documents onto my desk and walked away.

Once she was out of sight, my colleagues crowded around. Their voices were overlapping. One of them asked, "Isn't this Zachary's project?"

"His projects are the most difficult. There are so many requirements, and it's hard to find all the information," another commented. "There's no way anyone could finish them all today. Honestly, even by tomorrow night would be a stretch."

"Ms. Campbell favors him way too much. He doesn't even handle his own projects, and she just assigns them to someone else."

They crowded around me, speaking without restraint. However, I knew perfectly well they weren't defending me. They were just here for the drama.

Everyone in the company knew that the CEO, Beatrice, was my girlfriend. Yet, she showed blatant favoritism toward my sworn rival, Zachary Fletcher.

Back then, Beatrice hadn't just bent the rules to give Zachary the managerial role on the project team. She had even handed him a multimillion-dollar project I had spent a month securing, then another month working overtime. And she did it right before it was due.

I refused to accept it. So, Beatrice responded by holding a public vote to decide who would take on the project.

On the surface, my coworkers spoke up for me. But when it was time to vote, they all cast their votes for Zachary.

Afterward, they told me they had only voted that way because they were intimidated by Beatrice. They even suggested I be more accommodating to Zachary, the new colleague.

Similar incidents happened over and over again.

They were still acting all indignant for me. This time, though, I calmly took the project list. I didn't storm into Beatrice's office to confront her like I used to.

When my coworkers saw that, several of them widened their eyes in disbelief.

They were about to speak when Beatrice descended the stairs. In an instant, the group went silent and hurried back to their desks.

Beatrice seemed to be in a good mood. She ignored their little antics and reminded me to leave the completed proposal on her desk.

Once I nodded, she walked off without looking back. Her heels clicked noisily against the floor.

She had made an effort with her makeup and put on a short skirt that barely reached her knees. It was obvious she was going to meet Zachary.

In fact, it had been like this for years.

It had all started when I discovered chat logs showing Beatrice and Zachary wishing each other good night. I couldn't help but question her about it.

However, she accused me of being petty. In a fit of anger, she made an exception and hired Zachary.

She wanted to punish me for doubting her, so she deliberately favored Zachary, taking him to every social event. At company dinners, she even served him food and wiped his mouth in front of everyone.

When I got angry, she gave me the cold shoulder. However, when I apologized, she took the chance to get my coworkers to lecture me. Everyone said I wasn't magnanimous enough as a man.

Due to that, I often questioned myself. Had I not been open-minded enough to let things come to this?

Later, I found out by chance that Zachary was Beatrice's first love, and everything finally clicked. She was only using my jealousy as an excuse, brazenly holding onto a lingering connection with her first love.

Even if I hadn't seen her messages back then, Beatrice would have found some other excuse to be with Zachary.

After the two of them returned from a business trip some time ago, they still went out for dinners, drinks, and basketball games just as often as before. However, I could sense that the dynamic between them had changed.

Fortunately, I no longer cared. A five-year relationship had come to an end, and this farce had finally run its course.

…

By the time I finished the proposal, I was the only one left in the office.

I unlocked my phone, only to see that Zachary had posted several updates in a row. The pictures were taken at an upscale restaurant, and a candlelit dinner was laid out on the table before them.

In one of the photos, Beatrice held her knife and fork with elegance as she cut Zachary's steak for him. The caption read, "A steak cut by the CEO herself. Of course, it'll taste better."

The comment section quickly filled with colleagues teasing them about how sweet they looked. Zachary joked with them too, showing off the fact that Beatrice—who never drank—had even shared half a bottle of red wine with him just to celebrate his project's success.

The comment section grew more heated, filled with speculation. Yet, Beatrice didn't explain. She simply replied, "It was only right."

Some people, who were clearly out of the loop, even asked when they'd be getting married. Beatrice responded with nothing but three dots, while Zachary followed up with a cheeky emoji.

This time, I didn't get angry over their complicated relationship or call Beatrice, only to be scolded as I had before.

Instead, I sent her a message to let her know the proposal was finished, left the documents on her desk, and drove home.

…

It wasn't until I got home that I saw Beatrice's reply. The message read, "Sebastian, this is Zachary. Thanks for working on the project. I'll treat you to dinner sometime."

Beatrice never went anywhere without her phone. Even if I picked it up just to check the time, she would snap at me for invading her privacy. And now, she had handed it to Zachary, letting him read our messages and reply in her place.

I let out a scoff. It was clear that people treated you according to how much you mattered to them.

Strangely, I felt calm. The things that used to make me feel like the entire world was collapsing now seemed insignificant.

Feelings could change, but hard work never let me down.

I opened my calendar and checked the date.

Not long ago, Beatrice and Zachary had gone on a trip under the guise of a business assignment. While they were away, I took the opportunity to submit my resignation.

As expected, whenever they were together, all her attention was on him. She approved my resignation without even looking at it.

Now, all that remained was to finish the handover in three days. After that, I would be gone for good.

After a moment's thought, I called Charles Lawson, my advisor at an overseas research center.

Right after graduating, I joined the research center as a top student, enjoying excellent pay and benefits. But when Beatrice said she needed people to start her company, I quit without hesitation.

Charles tried again and again to stop me, but I still chose to return home and build something from scratch with her. Looking back now, I realized how foolish I had been.

Once we were connected, I explained the reason for my call.

I had expected a lecture. Instead, Charles sighed and told me he had known about my situation for a long time. He even said that he had long intended for me to return.

"But this time, have you really thought it through?" he asked.

I nodded. "I have. I've already taken care of the resignation."

"Resignation? What resignation?"

At that moment, a startled voice rang out. I turned around to see Beatrice stepping inside.

I glanced down and realized the call with Charles had already ended. So, I calmly locked my screen before replying, "A friend of mine is planning to resign from his company."

Beatrice frowned. Suspicion flickered across her face. "What kind of friend talks about work with you this late at night?"

I was still thinking about how to explain when her phone chimed.

It was a message from Zachary. He said he had come across a stray cat on his way home and had gone out of his way to stop at a store to buy it some food.

A smile tugged at Beatrice's lips as she read Zachary's text.

Then, seeming to notice I was still there, she quickly suppressed her smile and said dismissively, "Stop talking about depressing stuff with your friends. If you have that much time, you should spend it on getting familiar with the project."

Her voice was cold, completely different from how she spoke to Zachary.

Even then, I didn't argue, nor did I mention that the project had already been handed over to Zachary.

Beatrice didn't acknowledge me as well. With a smile, she replied to Zachary's messages and went back into the bedroom.

Before long, her carefree laughter drifted from behind the door. She seemed to have completely forgotten that I had spent all these years by her side, working day and night, until I had lost contact with every friend I once had.

But it was fine that way. At least it spared me the trouble of wasting my breath on her.

I returned to the small study I had converted out of the storage room and pulled out the Alvertonian materials I hadn't finished.

Five years had passed, and the research center had long since shifted its focus. Even with Charles' help, I'd still need to be capable on my own if I wanted to return.

Fortunately, my foundation was solid. So, picking things back up wouldn't take long.

"Are you reading an Alvertonian magazine?"

I was absorbed in my reading when Beatrice appeared out of nowhere. She grabbed the magazine from my hands, flipped through a couple of pages, and tossed it back.

She scoffed. "Why are you reading this? Can you even understand it?"

"Just browsing," I replied flatly, putting the materials away. "Did you come for something?"

In the past, whenever Beatrice came to me on her own, I would have greeted her warmly. This time, perhaps not expecting my indifference, she froze for a moment.

Her expression faltered, then she said, "There is something. Zachary just wrapped up a major project. I'm planning to promote him and to motivate the rest of the team. What do you think?"

Beatrice looked at me as she spoke. She asked for my opinion, but I knew she was only informing me and not really seeking it.

I nodded anyway. "Fine by me."

"But rewards come with consequences. Otherwise, the team can't be managed," she added. "You haven't completed a project in a long while, so I want to temporarily reassign you to a lower position.

"I'll move you back once things settle. Don't worry. It won't be for long. I'm thinking of the team's best interests. As my boyfriend, you'll support me, right?"

I laughed bitterly to myself. As it turned out, she still had no idea I had already resigned.

Beatrice could tell Zachary's moods from the slightest clues, and even knew what he liked from little details. Yet, she was unaware that she had personally signed her own boyfriend's resignation letter.

Sure enough, all it took was a few words to see who cared and who didn't.

When I didn't respond, she assumed I was about to argue with her like I used to. Her expression darkened, and she said sharply, "Whether you agree or not doesn't matter. I've already sent out the paperwork. Besides, your office has been given to Zachary."

Then, she warned, "Either you accept the reassignment, or you leave. But take my advice. You'd better think twice before walking away. After all, the company's preparing to go public."

Her tone left no doubt that I wouldn't leave. In fact, this had happened far too often. In just a year, a few remarks from Zachary had demoted me again and again.

I had endured it before. Hence, Beatrice was certain I'd be even less willing to walk away now.

"I never said I didn't agree," I replied with a wry smile.

"Then it's settled."

She visibly relaxed. Since I hadn't said no, she took it as a yes.

Just as Beatrice was about to leave, she noticed something and came back. "I remember you used to keep a photo of us on your desk. Why isn't it there anymore?"

It was only then that the realization dawned on me.

It wasn't just the desk. Photos of us were everywhere—on the walls of my room and in my wallet too. I reminded myself constantly that no matter what Beatrice did, she still loved me.