"She was just looking. Why are you so jealous over every little thing?"

"If it bothers you that much, come along."

As he finished, his eyes landed on the document folder by my hand, and he reached for it.

"What's this?"

I pressed it down before he could.

"My things."

"Since when can't I look at your things?"

He grabbed for it.

I stood up, taking myself and the folder a step back.

His hand froze in midair, and the air between us turned cold.

Duane Delgado stared at me, something unfamiliar in his eyes, like he was sizing me up.

"Cornelia Sullivan, you've been acting strange lately."

I gave a faint smile.

"Have I?"

"You never used to be like this."

"I never used to think I'd actually get married, either."

The words dropped, and Duane's expression changed completely.

He stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly laughed.

"Fine. Threatening me again."

"Is this about the keys last night?"

"I already told you, that place is going to be ours eventually. What's the point of clinging to it like this?"

He came over, his tone softening a little.

"Cornelia, stop this."

"I'll come back tonight and have dinner with you. We can lock in the date for the license while we're at it."

I looked at him.

"Don't bother coming back tonight."

He froze.

I picked up the folder and grabbed my bag.

"I have plans."

The notary office opened at nine.

By the time I got there, a clerk was just rolling up the gate.

My face reflected back at me in the glass door.

No tears. No red eyes.

Just calm. So calm it felt unfamiliar, even to me.

The notary finished checking my paperwork and looked up.

"Miss Sullivan, are you certain you want to file a withdrawal-of-funds declaration?"

"Once this declaration is notarized, we'll help confirm that the signing process is valid and authentic. As for freezing the property transfer afterward, your lawyer will still need to send a formal letter to the developer."

I nodded.

"I'm certain."

She reminded me again:

"You've put in a three-hundred-thousand-dollar down payment, plus another eighty-six thousand prepaid toward furnishings."

"If the other party refuses to return it, you may have to take this to court."

I signed my name.

"Then I'll sue."

As the pen tip glided across the paper, I suddenly thought of my mother's gold bracelet.

Before she passed, she held my hand and said:

"Cornelia, a woman has to have her own money. Love someone, fine, but never hand over your whole life."

I didn't understand it then. I do now.

When I walked out of the notary office, there were more than a dozen missed calls on my phone.

Duane's calls. I didn't return them.

Right after that, Willow Simmons sent a photo.

In it, she stood in the living room of the new place.

The wall where I'd planned to build a bookshelf had been mocked up with software into one big pink display cabinet.

The caption read: 【Cornelia, do you think I made the place too girly? Duane said as long as I like it, that's all that matters.】

Below it was a voice message.

I tapped play. Willow's voice came through soft and sweet.

"Cornelia, don't get the wrong idea."

"I'm just trying the place out early for you two. After all, I know Duane's daily habits better than you do."

When it finished, I saved the photo and forwarded everything to my lawyer.

【Does this count as her disposing of jointly funded property rights without authorization?】

The lawyer replied fast.

【It can be used as evidence.】

I'd just put my phone away when Duane called again.

This time I answered. His voice was pressed tight over the anger.

"Cornelia Sullivan, where did you go?"

"Handling some paperwork."

"What paperwork? Did you go to the notary office?"

I said nothing.

Duane's breathing grew heavier.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“My mom just got a call from the developer. They said you filed a withdrawal declaration.”

“Cornelia, we spent six months on that place. We finally locked in the price, and now you're pulling out?”

“I'm not making a scene.”

“Then what are you doing?”

I stood at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the red light count down, second by second.

“I'm getting my money back.”

The line went quiet for two seconds.

Then Duane laughed.

The kind of laugh that comes from pure exasperation.

“It's only three hundred grand. Is this really necessary?”

“When you sold your bracelets to scrape that money together, I told you to stop. You were the one who insisted.”

“And now you're throwing it in my face? What's the point?”

My fingers tightened, slowly.

“You're right. There's no point.”

Something in my tone must have registered, because his voice softened.

“Cornelia, that's not what I meant.”

“I just think, we're about to get married. Splitting everything down to the last dollar hurts what we have.”

“Withdraw the declaration, and tonight I'll take you to that private kitchen place you love.”

“Then we can talk it through properly.”

Talk it through. Again. He always said we'd talk.

And every time, it ended with me being the one who gave in.

I watched the light turn green across the street and stepped forward with the crowd.

“No need, Duane. There's nothing left for us to talk through.”

The line went dead silent.

It was a long moment before he spoke again.

“Cornelia, what's that supposed to mean?”

I said：“Exactly what it sounds like.”

After I hung up, I went straight to the rental apartment.

The movers were already waiting downstairs.

I'd booked them a week ago.

That was when I'd noticed my name wasn't on the property registration, and I'd already braced for the worst.

If Duane had taken those keys back in front of everyone last night, if he'd given me even one honest word, maybe I would have canceled the booking.

But he hadn't.

The mover saw me standing there alone and asked：

“Lot of stuff?”

“Not much.”

The things that were actually mine really weren't much.

A few boxes of books, two bags of clothes, a laptop, one set of art supplies.

Everything else was the life I'd pieced together, little by little, over the years.

I left the kitchen cups. I left the throw pillows in the living room. I even left the floor lamp I'd hunted down across three different stores.

Not because I couldn't bear to part with them. I just couldn't be bothered to want them anymore.

When the mover was nearly done, he dragged a cardboard box out from under the bed.

“This one too?”

I looked down at it.

It was full of Duane and me, all those years packed inside.

Movie ticket stubs, vacation photos, matching slippers, and that notebook crammed with our wedding plans.

I crouched down and opened the notebook.

On the first page, in my handwriting：Wedding budget, under twenty thousand.

On the second page, in Duane's：All that matters is the bride being happy.

I looked at that line, and I smiled.

Then I dropped the whole notebook into the trash bag.

“Leave it.”

At five in the afternoon, I set the keys on the entryway cabinet.

I snapped a photo and sent it to Duane.

【Keys are here. I've moved out.】

He didn't reply.

Three minutes later, he called.

I hung up.

He called again. I hung up again.

After the seventeenth call, he sent a message.

【Cornelia, you'll regret this.】

I looked at the words and sent one last reply：【The one who'll regret it is you.】

At eight that night, Duane finally came back to the apartment.

By then I was already in the car heading to the train station.

On the phone, Violet Pruitt asked me：

“You're really not going to tell him where you're going?”

“Not telling him.”

"And the apartment? The money? With his family's character, you think they'll ever pay you back?"

"My lawyer will handle it."

Violet went quiet for a few seconds, then swore under her breath.

"This is long overdue."

"Cornelia, these past few years you've lived like an unpaid maid."

"His mom's back hurts, you go sit with her at the doctor's. His sister's prepping for grad school, you fix up her portfolio. His company's just getting off the ground, you come home after work and do his books."

"And what did it get you? The keys to your own wedding home went to his one true love. Your appointment to register the marriage got bumped so she could go first."

"Does Duane actually think he's some hot commodity?"

I leaned against the train window, listening to her rant, and felt something in my chest loosen just a little.

Back at the apartment, Duane's messages kept popping up, one after another.

【Where are you?】

【Why is the closet empty?】

【Cornelia, are you serious right now?】

【Did you go to Violet's?】

【I'm warning you, don't try to scare me with this breakup nonsense.】

I didn't reply.

Ten minutes later, he sent a photo.

In it were the keys, sitting on the entryway cabinet.

Next to them lay the couple's ring I'd taken off.

That ring was silver.

Five years ago, Duane bought it for me with the bonus from his first project.

He was broke back then. He even got the size wrong.

It sat loose on my finger, but I was happy about it for a long time.

Later, once he had money, he said he'd make it up to me with a diamond.

Five years of making it up. He never did.

My phone buzzed again. A voice message this time.

I tapped it open.

Duane's voice was a little hoarse.

"Cornelia, where the hell are you?"

"I admit my mom handled last night badly, and Willow doesn't know any better."

"But you can't just move out over this."

"Five years together, and you toss it the second you decide to?"

I stared out at the blurred night beyond the glass and didn't answer.

Soon enough, Willow updated her social feed.

She'd posted a photo of the new apartment, that red-corded set of keys laid out on the coffee table.

The caption read：【Some places aren't mine to keep, and that's okay. At least tonight someone's here to watch the city lights with me.】

In the corner of the photo, half of Duane's shirt cuff peeked into frame.

Violet saw it too. She was so furious her voice cracked.

"He's got the nerve to call you? He's looking for you and touring apartments with Willow at the same time?"

I studied the photo for a few seconds.

Then I closed the app and messaged my lawyer.

【Please send the demand letter to Duane and the developer tonight.】

My lawyer replied：【You want to send it now?】

I wrote back：【Yes.】

The station announcement came over the speakers.

"The train is about to depart. All remaining passengers, please board now."

I pulled my suitcase along, following the crowd toward the ticket gate.

My phone suddenly buzzed like crazy.

It was Duane calling.

I hung up.

He sent a voice message. In the background, Willow was crying, low and stifled.

Duane's voice had gone completely frantic.

"Cornelia, you'd better explain this to me."

"Why is the developer telling me you confirmed the withdrawal of the down payment?"

"Why does the demand letter say there's no engagement between us?"

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

I stood in front of the gate and typed, head down.

【Duane.】

【I'm not trying to do anything.】

【I just don't want you anymore.】

The second the message went through, I pulled out my SIM card and dropped it in the trash bin beside me.

Behind me, someone shouted, sharp and urgent.

"Cornelia!"

I turned around.

Duane stood outside the station entrance, clutching the silver ring I'd left behind, his eyes red enough to scare you.