Outside the courthouse, Lucy Anderson's secretary suddenly collapsed.

She abandoned me and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

I tidied up the aftermath alone into the wee hours of the night and saw a social media update from her secretary, featuring Lucy's profile as she leaned over the hospital bed.

The post read: [Finally divorced. Now I can openly be with you.]

I clicked "like" and commented: [Here's to hoping for a brood of eight!]

Afterwards, I packed my stuff and moved out.

——

Lucy called me late that night.

I was pondering whether to take the photos from our trips together.

As soon as I answered, her voice came through, tinged with irritation, "Jake, that's just low! What's with the 'brood of eight'? Been binge-reading trashy romance novels? You know he just got a divorce because his ex cheated, right? Why stir the pot? I've told you a thousand times, he's just my secretary, and his health isn't great. Don't push him too hard."

I yanked our photo off the wall and shoved it into my suitcase.

Standing by the window, I lit up a cigarette.

"Why did you ditch me in front of the courthouse? Thinking he matters more than me?"

There was a pause from Lucy, obviously caught off guard by my directness. When she responded, her anger was palpable. "Are you accusing me of cheating, Jake? Do you really think I'd marry you if I didn't love you? Andrew and I are strictly professional. If an employee collapsed in front of you, wouldn't you be concerned? Must you always be so suspicious?"

Just coworkers, stop being paranoid...

I've had enough of these excuses over eight years, and my emotions flatlined.

The night we were supposed to get our marriage license, I was so elated that I couldn't sleep, and signed an unfair prenup in my excitement.

Yet, for her secretary, Lucy could drop everything we had in an instant.

I put on a bitter smile and bit back the bitter words, flicking ash from my cigarette before giving her a simple reply.

"You're right."

Knowing Lucy, no further questions meant I'd moved on; her tone softened, "Be sweet and apologize to Andrew," before she hung up.

This time, however, she was wrong. I erased them both from my life.

Lucy and I were childhood friends, having officially become a couple in our senior year of high school, seven years ago.

Honestly, those years weren't filled with joy.

Our disputes were always about Andrew Edward, her assistant.

Lucy, two years my senior, moved in here after college. She always told me how great Andrew was and how he had supported her through her startup's roughest patches, helping her not to give up.

She claimed she wouldn't have her financial independence without him.

This always irked me, but I loved Lucy.

So, I tolerated her rushing off after a call from Andrew, and their oddly close boss-assistant dynamic.

I never imagined it would end with her leaving me at the courthouse for him.

I've choked down this half-cooked meal for eight years.

Now I no longer want it.

Exhausted, I crashed here after cleaning up last night.

The next morning, Lucy's parents arrived unexpectedly.

Their first question was, "Did Lucy head to the office early today?"

I served them coffee, managing a smile.

"She didn't come home last night."

They looked visibly distressed, trying to reassure me, "Lucy's probably caught up in work; once she starts, she doesn't know when to stop."

I no longer cared about why Lucy hadn't come back, it was clear enough. I wanted to suggest not bothering to call, but they were already dialing.

As soon as Lucy answered, her father took over, voice filled with fury, "Where are you? Why did you leave Jake yesterday? What are you doing that you can't come home? Lucy, do you think you're untouchable?!"

A deep male voice in the background queried, "Lucy, who's that? Is Jake rushing you back?"

Silence fell.

Her parents looked awkwardly at me; I poured myself a coffee, unfazed.

"Lucy! Are you trying to kill me and your mom with worry? Come home and make it right with Jake!"

Lucy seemed to move to a quieter spot, her voice weary, "What has Jake complained about me now? Forget it. Tell him Andrew and I are just friends. He's unwell, and I'm looking after him, nothing more."

After that, the line went dead.

Complained about her, really?

I hadn't expected that letting her parents know where she was would be seen as complaining.

I laughed bitterly, grabbed my bag, and told them, "Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, I'm late for work, I've got to go."

"Wait for her here if you want."

Lucy's parents started to say something, but I left them with only my back to talk to.

A month ago, I'd started calling them mom and dad.

But now, everything was back to square one.

What happened at home, whether Lucy returned or at what time,

I stopped caring. I immersed myself in work all day, not even glancing at my phone's security app.

Strangely, the old me would have been restless, likely taking off work to find Lucy.

But now, I felt an unprecedented ease; my work productivity soared.

Only at lunch did I respond to a text from Lucy's parents, asking me not to be upset—they promised to scold Lucy and ensure she apologized.

I sent back a smiling emoji and left it at that.

I handed my project proposal to my boss, Anthony, who didn't even look at it but instead asked me to sit.

"Jake, are you really okay settling for just being an office assistant? I value your talents; don't compromise your future for anyone."

Initially, I had sought a transfer to be home in time to cook dinner for Lucy.

Anthony, who mentored me from the start, appreciated my skills and had been delaying my transfer request. Until today, I had even considered quitting.

But now, I nodded, "Actually, I've changed my mind. I'm staying on this project, but I'd like to apply for the new one overseas."

"Changing projects? Are you out of your mind, Jake? This project is the best we've got. Don't let romance cloud your judgment."

Anthony looked a bit irritated, remembering how I once asked for a quieter project for Lucy's sake.

I just smiled, "You've got it all wrong, man. I'm talking about the company's new international initiative."

Anthony paused, then smiled and tapped my forehead playfully.

"Finally seeing some sense, huh! I didn't bring it up earlier because I wasn't sure you were ready. You're not just messing with me, are you?"

Given my history, Anthony was naturally skeptical, promptly printing out the transfer papers for me to sign.

Instinctively, I reached for my phone to tell Lucy, but quickly shut it off.

I signed my name.

Lucy and I were done.

My choices no longer required her approval.

As quitting time approached, Lucy Anderson rang me up.

"You off work yet? Head over to the east side."

"Can't. Got a dentist appointment."

I'd delayed getting my wisdom tooth out to avoid a swollen face for the wedding pics. But that wasn't a concern anymore.

"Can't you switch it to another day? I've set up a dinner and you still haven't apologized to Andrew for last night."

That made me snicker.

Should I complain about apologizing first or about having to eat spicy food with a sore mouth?

"I'm heading to the dentist."

I ended the call, ignoring Lucy's flurry of texts.

Post-extraction, I downed some painkillers.

By the time I taxied home, it was past eleven.

The place was deserted.

I didn't call to check on Lucy; instead, I just got ready for bed and settled down with an ice pack.

With an international trip a few days away, I wasn't rushing to move out. Given our mismatched schedules, bumping into Lucy wasn't a big concern.

Lucy came back with Andrew in tow.

Andrew clung to her, Lucy's cheeks tinted red from drinking.

He grinned at me, eyes twinkling with a cheeky challenge.

"Lucy overdid it tonight, feeling a bit down."

I didn't bite, nor did I take Lucy off his hands. Just released the doorknob and returned to my ice pack.

"Hold it right there, Jake!"

Her slurred voice trailed after me.

I ignored her, continuing toward my room.

But Lucy sprang up, blocking my path.

"Jake, what's the deal? You ignoring me?"

I looked at her, the features that once charmed me now just seemed bland.

Emotionally, I was flat.

"Nothing's the deal. Go ahead."

I looked away, feigning indifference.

Her frustration was palpable, "Why skip dinner? Still feeling wronged? It was your comment that ticked Andrew off. I went to all this trouble to set up dinner, and you bail? When did you become so petty?"

Her tirade hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Lucy, did you actually read what Andrew posted online?"

Her face was still flushed as she retorted, "Of course, I saw it. He did nothing wrong. Andrew was just worried about misunderstandings about us. But you're still thinking dirty, thinking there's something between us."

I stared at her, disbelief etching my face.

I wanted to explode, to dissect Andrew's post like a prosecutor, something I'd done too many times before.

But the words fizzled out, extinguished before they could ignite.

What's the point? It's not like she's ever listened.

I scoffed at myself, "Right, you're always right."

But Lucy wasn't satisfied, her brows knotted in frustration, "Jake, do you still misunderstand me and Andrew? We're just—"

"Whatever you and he are, it's none of my business."

I cut her off, then shot Andrew a look, "Seems you enjoyed my comment. Quit the innocent act; it's nauseating."

I said my piece and strode into my bedroom, not looking back.

Behind me, Andrew's voice cracked under an imagined burden, "You branded me a homewrecker, I've been slandered and divorced because of rumors, and now you criticize my professional relationship with my boss? Is that really a crime?"

He turned to Lucy, "I'm sorry I'm the cause of your marital strife. Fire me if it helps—spare yourself the hassle and him the grief."

The Lucy and Andrew saga was an old script; if she wanted him gone, he'd have been history already.

As expected, Lucy responded, "Andrew, don't overthink it. It's late, and it's not safe now. Let me drive you home."

Her insisting on driving him when he lived just downstairs—and she was tipsy—was almost laughable.

Tipsy and alone with a man, what might happen?

Not to sound crude, but there are certain boundaries adults are expected to observe. Lucy had a habit of forgetting those.

Was she unaware?

Hardly. With her striking looks and ambitious nature, Lucy had always attracted attention from men—some with less than honorable intentions.

But she was always careful—never got drunk with strangers, and always called me if she did drink. She never went out alone with other men. Even a casual check of her phone revealed nothing but professional exchanges, and she was always cool toward any male colleagues who crossed the line.

This made me once question whether I'd been wrong about her and Andrew.

But people are living beings and love changes; it's as clear as knowing whether the water you drink is warm or cold.

I'm over it.

I cleared my mind, turned off the light, and slept.

Lucy's muffled voice floated through the door, mentioning she'd be quickly dropping Andrew off. I didn't respond.

The next day, there was no sign of her on the guest couch or the security feed.

My heart sank, unavoidably.

After freshening up, Lucy appeared, carrying a bag of my favorite bagels.

She laid out the tableware and gestured for me to sit.

I took my place at the table, eating the porridge I'd made.

Lucy's expression was weary but not angry, as she trod lightly, "The power went out at Andrew's last night. He's been scared of the dark since he was a kid. He slept in the master; I was in the guest room."

The dark circles under Lucy's eyes and her raspy voice suggested a sleepless night.

But all that was irrelevant to me now.

Seeing I wasn't engaging, Lucy just watched me, until I gave a reluctant nod.

That sparked a quick smile from her, mistaking it for forgiveness, "I'm thinking about a trip to California. Can you ask your boss for a couple weeks off? We could leave tomorrow."

I dismissed the idea, "Work's slammed right now; I can't."

Lucy's fork clattered to her plate, "Weren't you just moved to a less demanding job? How are you still so busy?"

"You're still upset, aren't you, Jake? I was planning for us to get the license today. Missing one day—can't you just let it go?"

It was typical of Lucy to be surprised.

For eight years, I'd danced to her tune, never saying no to any plan.

But that was over now.

Our love story began with her pursuit.

After we got together, she'd dote on me, sharing her late-night heartaches about unrequited crushes.

In school, after I was injured during a run, she'd fake an injury just to check on me and fetch my meals.

If I got stuck answering a question on the blackboard, she'd distract the teacher with questions she knew just to give someone time to slip me the answers.

These secretive, protective gestures once made me believe Lucy truly loved me, convincing me to love her back even more.

But over time, my affection turned into obsession, my concern into possession, and in her eyes, it all became just my 'being difficult.'

I had nothing left to say.

I remembered the loving looks she used to give me, but now, they seemed to have faded long ago.

I watched her calmly, her eyes darting away, clearly uneasy.

"Okay, I admit this was my fault."

I shook my head, my voice steady, "It's not your fault; it's just that you don't love me anymore."

Is it a crime not to love?

Absolutely not.

No one is ever required to stay in love with someone forever.

Finally, Lucy's composure began to crack. She stood up and grabbed my shoulders, "Jake, what are you getting at?"