After I said that, I pulled my hand back and walked straight out the door.

The moment I got to the office, news broke that our department was sending two people to the overseas branch for further training, and everyone scrambled to sign up.

Since graduating and joining the company, I've had three opportunities to go abroad for training, and this would be the fourth. Most of my colleagues from my entry-level cohort had already gone, as a year abroad usually meant a promotion and a raise upon returning.

But I hadn't been willing to try long-distance with Isabelle, so I never signed up and let those opportunities slip by, one after another.

Looking back now, I was already 30, and my life was a complete mess.

In our relationship, I was the only one making sacrifices. I'd been with Isabelle for seven years and rejected a hundred times, and she still wouldn't even give me some vague idea of a wedding date, always insisting she'd only marry me after Ronald got married.

At work, I'd accomplished nothing. People my age had already moved into management roles, while I was still stuck at the bottom, drifting through each day.

I figured it was time to make a change.

I signed up for the training too. I'd been working under the same manager since the day I joined the company, so he was surprised to see my name on the list. "Luke, you finally came around. Have you talked it over with your girlfriend?"

I shook my head. "This is my own decision. I want to move forward in my career."

My manager patted me on the shoulder, pleased. "That's how it should be. A man needs to build his career first. I'm sure your girlfriend will understand."

I pressed my lips together and remained silent.

The whole day, I stayed focused on work. For the first time, I wasn't thinking about Isabelle, and I didn't keep checking my phone to see if she'd messaged me.

Ever since I signed up for the overseas training, all I could think about was whether I'd be selected—not about being apart from Isabelle.

It seemed the moment she rejected my proposal for the hundredth time yesterday, I finally gave up on her completely.

Unexpectedly, right before the end of the workday, a message from her popped up.

"I'll pick you up after work. Let's have dinner together. I owe you for yesterday's birthday."

I thought about it, then agreed. I figured I might as well talk to her. Whether I got selected for the training or not, it was over between us.

After work, I stepped outside and immediately saw that familiar car. I opened the back door and slid into the seat.

Isabelle frowned. "Why aren't you sitting in the front?"

I didn't answer. My eyes landed on the men's jacket in the front passenger seat. I'd seen Ronald wearing that jacket before.

Ever since Isabelle bought this car, whenever Ronald was around, the front seat would be his.

I used to make a big deal out of it, but she thought I was being unreasonable, claiming it was just a seat. She insisted that because of his separation anxiety, he felt better sitting closer to her. She even scolded me for lacking empathy.

After that, I stopped riding in her car as much. After all, there was no point setting myself up to feel unwanted.

I didn't expect that even when Ronald wasn't here, he'd still leave something behind just to make his presence known.

If this were before, I would've felt my chest tighten with frustration.

But now? I honestly didn't care anymore.