I'd never realized Eric could be so patient. After all, in all the years he'd been with me, he'd never once behaved this way. He'd never looked that genuinely happy either.

In every photo, Eric was smiling brightly, a side of him I'd never seen before.

In the past, I carefully picked out a camera and even spent several months learning photography just so I could surprise him on his birthday.

To my surprise, he immediately pulled a long face and said sternly, "I've hated having my picture taken ever since I was a kid. As my fiancee, shouldn't you know that? Claudia, don't pretend like you know me so well. It makes me sick."

Because of that, he gave me the silent treatment for an entire month.

Later, it was only after I worked on projects for two straight months to help him get promoted to Deputy CEO that he was finally willing to speak to me again.

It was funny how easy it was to tell when someone loved you and when they didn't.

Loving someone meant you knew their favorites and pet peeves by heart. Even the stuff that got on your nerves—you'd value it, because it came from a genuine place.

At the thought of this, I put away my phone and went straight to Leslie Fritz in HR to hand in my resignation.

Just as I was about to hand over my work, I glanced at the documents and realized there wasn't much to begin with.

I used to have a few projects under my belt. But not long ago, Eric had handed them over to Eunice just to cheer her up. Thus, the handover didn't take much time at all.

I was sorting through the files when the head of the project department, Nathan Stout, came storming over with a rejected bid proposal, demanding an explanation.

"Claudia, you've been in charge of this bid the whole time. Now the client says something's wrong with the proposal. I'd expect you to give me a good explanation."

Hearing this, the colleagues around me recalled how Eunice had told them on a daily basis about all the ways I'd supposedly bullied her. Now they'd finally caught an opportunity to deliver justice, and they could hardly wait to get rid of me.

"Claudia, how could you mess up such an important project? Surely you know how much this means to Mr. Powell."

"I really don't get why Claudia was put in charge of the bid proposal in the first place. If Eunice had been given the responsibility from the start, it definitely wouldn't have turned out like this."

"Do you guys think Claudia's salary is even enough to cover the damages?"

"Cover the damages? Is she even capable of covering them? If you ask me, she should just get lost as soon as possible."

Ignoring everyone's comments, I glanced at the subject line of the bid proposal and let out a cold laugh.

"I wasn't in charge of this project. Eunice was."

Jenny Gould, the lackey who followed Eunice around everywhere, piped up, "Wow, you can't even own up to your own mess. You really have no shame, do you? This was obviously your project, and now you're trying to throw Eunice under the bus? What, you think the rest of us are idiots?"

The other colleagues chimed in one after another.

Just then, Leslie came over to inform me that my resignation had been approved.

Jenny caught wind of it and sneered with contempt. "You think quitting gets you off the hook? It's way too late for that. You'd better start thinking about how to cover the company's losses and explain yourself to Mr. Powell.

"The company should've gotten rid of a liability like you a long time ago. The only reason you're still here is that Eunice, out of the goodness of her heart, kept telling Mr. Powell not to fire you. Otherwise, you'd have been gone ages ago."

No sooner had she spoken than the others started clamoring to throw me out of the company immediately, lest a bad apple like me poison the whole barrel.

Within minutes, they'd crammed my belongings into a black trash bag and tossed it out the front door like garbage.

Jenny, at the front of the pack, saw me still standing there and asked disdainfully, "Claudia, are you seriously going to make us throw you out ourselves?"

I glanced at her smug expression. Since when did a spineless fence-sitter like her get to act all high and mighty in front of me?

I raised my hand and slapped her twice across the face, then walked out of the company while everyone stood there in stunned silence.

A few days later, I received another couple of photo shoots from Eunice. She was showing off like always.

"Say, in all the time you were with Eric, have you guys ever even done a photo shoot together? Because I've never seen a single picture of you two at his place. Wait, don't tell me you don't even have one ordinary photo together."

I had no interest in engaging with Eunice. I meant to block her, but I accidentally tapped open one of the photos she'd sent instead.

To my surprise, the theme of the shoot was a wedding.

My eyes darkened. So, the person Eric was going to marry was Eunice?

It suddenly hit me that with the wedding fast approaching, Eric and I still hadn't taken our own wedding photos.

I'd brought it up with him before, but he always brushed me off, saying he was swamped with work and didn't have time to do a shoot with me.

But as it turned out, his idea of being "swamped with work" was busy taking Eunice out to lift her spirits.

Just then, my mother, Marsha Cooke, called to ask how the wedding preparations were going.

"Claudia, make sure you go over everything carefully. Don't let any mistakes turn us into a laughingstock in front of the Powell family. And if there's anything you need my help with, just let me know.

"Don't carry it all by yourself. Our family may have fallen on hard times, but that doesn't mean just anyone can walk all over us."

At her words, my mind flashed to the photo of Eric in a bespoke suit, grinning from ear to ear.

"Mom, I'm calling off the wedding," I announced flatly.

Mom assumed I was just throwing another tantrum with Eric and tried to reason with me.

"Claudia, Eric is a good man. What's the harm in giving in a little? The wedding is just around the corner—are you really planning to walk down the aisle with a scowl on your face?"

She wanted me to give in to him?

How many times over the years had I already given in? And yet, time and again, he'd handed my projects over to Eunice just to cheer her up. He'd even taken her on multiple vacations, just the two of them.

I used to think that if I just gave in a little more, things would gradually get better. But what came of it? He only pushed further, brazen enough to take Eunice for wedding photos.

This time, I truly didn't want to give in anymore.

Seeing that I wasn't responding, Mom offered a few perfunctory words of advice and then hung up.

Not long after, Oscar came upstairs to tell me that the custom wedding dress and suit had arrived, and that Eric had already headed over to the shop, so I should hurry over too.

I was a little surprised. I'd assumed Eric wouldn't be back until the actual wedding day. After all, his so-called business trips never lasted less than two weeks.

Could it be that he actually took this wedding seriously?

But if that were really the case, why had he been completely uninvolved, dumping the whole process on me?

I let out a self-deprecating laugh and dismissed the thought. Then, I made my way to the underground garage and drove over to the bridal shop.

The moment I arrived at the entrance, I could already hear Eunice and Eric arguing inside.

Eunice questioned Eric, "Why are you so set on marrying Claudia? You've been shackled by that engagement for years—are you really going to let it ruin your whole life?

"You're clearly in love with me. When you're with me, you come alive! I just can't stand to see you so unhappy. If you go through with marrying Claudia, I'll kill myself right here in front of you."

Eric froze for a moment, stunned.

Seeing him still hesitating, Eunice completely broke down. She grabbed a knife and slashed at her own wrist.

Eric went pale with shock. He snatched the knife away and quickly pressed a piece of clothing against her wrist.

Eunice shoved him away, shrieking hysterically, "Don't stop me! Just let me die! That way, I won't have to watch you suffer every single day!"

Terrified she might do something even more reckless, Eric frantically relented.

At this, Eunice immediately burst into tears of joy.

Eric wanted to take her to the hospital to get bandaged up, but Eunice refused.

Instead, she seized the moment to say, "I want you to announce it in front of everyone on your wedding day that I'm your real bride, and Claudia is nothing but some delusional psycho obsessed with you. Think of it as teaching her a lesson."

Eric saw more and more blood spilling from her wrist and quickly nodded yes.

Seeing this, I turned and left the bridal shop without a word. At the same time, I slipped the ring off my finger and casually tossed it into a trash bin on the curb.

Eric had given me the ring back when we first made things official.

As soon as I walked through the door, I heard the sound of recipe instructions playing from the kitchen.

The living room was a complete disaster, with ingredients strewn everywhere.

It was only upon seeing Eric in a flurry of panic in the kitchen that I found out he had spent the whole night poring over recipes, all so he could make a single bowl of soup for Eunice.

When Eric spotted me, his eyes lit up. "Aren't you good at making soup? Come teach me—I want to whip something up for Eunice. Nothing too complicated, just something to build her strength back up."

There was such a glow about him that I found myself staring without realizing.

I had seen that look on his face before. It was the exact same way he'd looked at me back when I agreed to hand over 5% of the shares.

But to think it was all for Eunice.

I glanced at the burns on the back of his hands and said icily, "We have a chef at home who specializes in making soup. There's really no need for you—"

I hadn't even finished speaking before he cut me off impatiently. "You don't get it. What matters most is the thought you put into making it yourself."

I looked up at him when I heard that. There was a light in them as he spoke.

There was a time when I, too, had put that same kind of painstaking effort into making soups for him. Even when the household staff remarked that I acted less like the lady of the house and more like a housekeeper, I never said a word of complaint.

However, Eric never appreciated any of it. Not only did he mock me for it, but he once flung a scalding hot soup directly onto my leg, leaving a scar that never faded.

I instinctively stepped back two paces.

He immediately took it as me putting on airs and refusing to teach him. His expression darkened in an instant.

Staring at me coldly, he said, "Claudia, don't tell me you're still upset about me making you apologize to Eunice. Haven't I already promised you that after the wedding I'll take you on a trip around the world?

"Besides, the wedding is coming. When the time comes, I'll make sure you have your moment."

I simply turned and made my way upstairs without a word.

Fuming, he hurled the spatula in his hand at me. It hit me square in the back.

After fussing around for a while longer, he not only failed to make the soup but also ended up burning himself.

When I came back downstairs, Oscar was carefully bandaging him up.

The moment Eric saw me, his expression darkened.

"Claudia, this is exactly why you'll never measure up to Eunice," he snarled. "Eunice would never treat me like this! She—"

Before he could finish, I cut him off coldly. "Then let's cancel the wedding. I'm not the one you want to marry anyway."

Eric shot to his feet, so agitated that the bandage slipped right off, revealing an arm covered in blisters.

Eyes brimming with tears, he said, "Claudia, I dare you to say that again!"

I was stunned—I never imagined he would go this far for Eunice. After taking a deep breath, I said, "We're done, and the wedding is off. Do you need me to say it again?"

Disbelief was written all over Eric's face. Convinced I was just playing hard to get, he said mockingly, "Claudia, you were the one who insisted on having this wedding in the first place, and now you're making a scene about canceling it?

"You think saying that will make me care about you more? Well, you can dream on."

Not wanting to argue with him anymore, I dragged my suitcase out the door and booked a flight abroad for that very night.

Before I left, I prepared a self-recorded video message to replace the wedding photo slideshow that was supposed to play before the ceremony. I then handed it to Oscar as my final gift to Eric.

Oscar thought it was a surprise I'd put together for Eric and gave his word that he'd play it at the wedding.

Then, recalling the moment Eric had struck me with the spatula, he hesitated briefly before asking with concern, "Ms. Sawyer, how's your back?"

I paused for a moment, then smiled and shook my head.

Whenever Eric got angry, he had a habit of throwing things at me without the slightest care for how hard he did it. Over the years, I'd long since gotten used to it.

Besides, the pain from that blow had long faded.

Looking out the window at the boarding crowd, I took the chance to send Eric a voice message.

"Eric, my early congratulations to you and Eunice on your marriage. I hope you'll like the gift I got for you."

I stared at the single grey tick beside my last messages, then remembered Eric had blocked me ages ago.

Just then, the announcement came over the speakers that the plane was about to take off.

As I watched the ground grow further and further away, I faced my phone screen and said with a smile, "Goodbye, Eric."