I'd been there since she had nothing.

Still meant nothing.

If I disappeared, she wouldn't even blink.

I was halfway through drafting my resignation when she showed up behind me.

I froze, then switched my screen like nothing happened.

She stared, voice sharp. "What are you writing?"

"Nothing. Just some contract drafts."

Her brows pulled together. She didn't catch on, just said, "Hedley, come with me."

As soon as she called me out, whispers exploded.

"Uh-oh, Hedley's in trouble with Ms. Quindt again."

Everyone thought Pierre was her boyfriend.

No one knew I was her fiancé.

In her office, she frowned.

"So I didn't come pick you up. Is that really worth sulking over and not coming home?"

I shook my head. "Snow was too heavy. Didn't seem smart."

True, but also a lie.

I didn't want to go back. I wanted out.

She didn't notice.

After a pause, she said, "About the proposal... I'll say yes."

Then handed me an invitation.

"Come with me tonight."

Front row seats. My favorite orchestra.

Her version of an apology.

I hesitated, then took it. She owed me that much.

She looked like she was about to say something—then her phone went off.

Shrill. Urgent.

She bolted.

Pierre. Of course.

Only he could make her drop everything.

After she left, I printed my resignation and brought it to Mr. Clarkson, the Deputy CEO.

He blinked. "Hedley, you're resigning... is it because of Ms. Quindt?"

I pressed my lips together. Funny, really.

Everyone thought I was quitting over her attitude.

No one knew it was because she broke me past fixing.

When I nodded, he sighed and signed it.

On my way out, I ran into Sonia and Pierre.

The Borevia's favorite couple.

Her eyes darkened. "Hedley, if there's work to report, do it later."

Then she brushed past me, Pierre right there beside her.

Her look said, 'Don't start.'

I didn't.

But that night, I still went to the concert.

The hall was packed, except for her empty seat.

Before, I'd always wait for her.

This time, I went in alone.

Listened.

She never showed.

And I wasn't even mad.

Five years gone.

No point clinging now.

Whether she knew about the resignation or not—

I was leaving.

***

After the concert, I didn't go home. Just wandered around Harbor Front.

Fireworks tore through the sky.

Didn't feel a thing.

My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

Not Sonia worrying—

just the news blowing up over the fireworks she'd planned for Pierre's birthday.

I got home at dawn.

Light still on.

Sonia passed out on the couch.

Was she waiting for me?

Five years together, and it was always her coming home drunk.

I used to call nonstop, scared she'd end up in a ditch.

Used to make ginger tea, worried her stomach couldn't take the booze.

She'd told me she hated that.

Said it made her feel old.

Maybe she heard the door, because she jolted up and rushed over to hug me.

"Where were you? Why didn't you answer? I almost called the cops!"

I hesitated, pulled away, grabbed my phone—dead.

"It froze in the snow. Battery didn't last."

At the word 'snow', something flickered in her face. Guilt, maybe.

She pressed her lips tight, then awkwardly handed me a velvet box.

I opened it. A ring.

I froze.

Once, I'd dreamed of this—Sonia at the clerk's office, hand out, waiting.

But that was another lifetime.

Now, nothing.

I closed the box and dropped it on the table.

"Thanks."

She frowned, confused. "You... what's going on with you?"

I looked at her, and it hit me—

she thought I'd melt. Cry. Pretend everything was fine.

The thought almost made me laugh.

I gave her a weak grin. "Oh, I'm so happy. That what you wanted?"

Thought that'd end it.

Didn't.

"Hedley," she snapped, "I just brought Pierre by the office. And I said yes to marrying you. How long are you gonna act like this?"

I didn't flinch. Plugged in my phone.

"You've got it wrong. I'm just tired."

Something in my voice landed.

For once, she felt me slipping.

She bit her lip, reached for my hand—

and her phone rang. Loud.

Pierre.

She opened her mouth to explain.

I cut her off.

"You're busy. Don't bother. I get it."

That threw her.

She gripped my hand tighter, searching for whatever she'd lost.

The phone kept ringing.

Finally, under my stare, she let go.

"I'll come to the 101st proposal," she said, then left.

I went to my room.

Slept like I hadn't in years.

Once I finished the handover at work, Sonia Quindt would never see me again.

***

At Quindt Corp the next day, I walked in like usual—

then my coworker Daniel pulled me aside.

"Hedley, you've got trouble today."

I frowned. I'd already quit—what trouble could there be?

He pointed ahead.

Pierre was sitting at my desk.

Daniel leaned in. "Today's his first day. First thing he did was claim your spot."

I walked over, quiet.

Pierre looked up, smirked. "I like this one. You can take another."

I just nodded. "Sure. Let me grab my stuff."

Didn't argue. Didn't flinch.

But the room read it wrong—thought I was backing down.

No one said a word.

Pierre's "boyfriend privileges" with Sonia carried too much weight.

They just stared, whispering, pity in their eyes.

I packed up. Ready to go.

Then Sonia showed up.

Pierre rushed to her, hand out like he owned her.

She let him. Then said,

"This is Pierre. He's joining us today. Please take care of him."

A few awkward claps.

She didn't care.

"Picked a seat yet?"

Pierre pointed straight at mine. "I want that one."

Sonia looked over, finally seeing me with a box in hand.

Her face shifted. "That spot's taken. Pick another."

Didn't expect that.

Pierre pouted, tugging her arm. "Sonia, come on. It's closer to you. I can see your reflection from here."

I couldn't stand the act. "Let him have it."

Didn't matter. I was gone anyway.

Pierre grinned. "See? He's fine with it."

Sonia shot me a dark look, then turned to him. "That desk is taken. Pick another."

Her tone—cold, final.

The woman who used to melt for him suddenly didn't.

Pierre froze.

Silence spread.

Sonia glanced my way one last time, said nothing, and walked off.

Pierre followed, but not before throwing me a glare.

I almost laughed.

I'd been him once—chasing her like a fool.

Difference was, I chased for five years.

I was heading out when my phone buzzed.

Message from Sonia:

[I'll be at the 101st proposal tomorrow. Waiting for you.]

I smiled.

Blocked her. Deleted everything.

Said goodbye to everyone, left the building.

Grabbed my bags and went straight to the airport.

Didn't know that the next day,

Sonia showed up early—dressed up, waiting at the County Clerk's Office.