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.

I only realized how pathetic I had been when I learned about Beatrice and Zachary's relationship. Each of these photos seemed to mock me, reminding me what a fool I had been.

I didn't bother explaining.

"The picture frame broke recently, so I put it away," I said flatly.

Beatrice frowned in disgust. "How are you always so clumsy with everything?"

Then, she looked down to check the floor for glass. "Make sure you clean it up properly. Don't let anyone get hurt."

With that, she walked out of the study.

As I stared at her retreating figure, I couldn't help but let out a self-deprecating chuckle. She wasn't worried about me. What she really meant was, "Don't let Zachary get hurt".

This was our home, yet she had brought him here so many times.

At first, Beatrice had snuck him in. Later, when I sensed something was off and confronted her, she produced evidence to show it was just business.

She also accused me of being jealous and petty. Then, she began bringing Zachary home openly, as if out of spite.

Over time, I began doubting myself. I wondered every day if it was my fault. Looking back now, if I had spent that energy on anything else, I could have succeeded at whatever I did.

…

The next morning, Beatrice broke the news of Zachary's promotion and my demotion to the very bottom of the company.

My coworkers still didn't know I had resigned. As they congratulated Zachary, they glanced at me with pity, quietly wondering if I was about to lose it again.

To their disappointment, I stayed calm the entire time. It was as if nothing had happened.

Over the next few days, while Beatrice threw a celebration party for Zachary, I was taking care of my visa. While they went to an amusement park to clear their heads, I sorted through my belongings. What I ended up taking didn't even fill a single suitcase.

While they went out to entertain clients at a club and were egged into a toast together, I finished handing over all my work.

…

Two days later, on my final day at the company, I wrapped up my last bit of HR paperwork.

"Please head to the CEO's office before you leave. Ms. Campbell wants to see you," Kelly Jones, the HR rep, said without looking up.

I had meant to refuse, but then I remembered I was leaving that night. If Beatrice went out with Zachary and didn't come home like always, this would be the last time we'd see each other.

After five years together, we at least deserved a proper goodbye.

With that in mind, I headed upstairs to the CEO's office.

Just as I was about to push the door open, I saw through the glass that Beatrice was sitting on the couch in a short skirt. Meanwhile, Zachary was lying down with his head on her lap. They looked unmistakably intimate.

I stopped in my tracks and hesitated, unsure if I should turn away.

But Zachary saw me first. He cried out in surprise and scrambled upright. "Seb, what are you doing here?"

Panic flickered across Beatrice's face. She hurriedly tugged at her slightly disheveled skirt before snapping at me, "Sebastian Walker! Who permitted you to come in? Didn't I make it clear that you're not allowed upstairs without my approval?"

She had mentioned this rule before. However, her exact words had been that no one could come upstairs without her permission—except Zachary.

Back then, I had only thought Beatrice was giving him special treatment. Now, I finally understood what she had meant.

At this point, nothing surprised me anymore.

I didn't bother arguing and said evenly, "Kelly said you wanted to see me."

Beatrice sneered upon hearing that. She then strode to her desk and angrily pressed the intercom.

In less than two minutes, Kelly came upstairs.

"Did you tell Sebastian I wanted to see him?" Beatrice demanded in an icy voice.

Sensing the tension, Kelly glanced at Beatrice's frosty expression, then at Zachary. She was too nervous to speak. After a long pause, she finally replied, "I don't remember."