The air went cold.

Ellie dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, Ms. Beaumont. This is my fault.

"Troy, don't argue because of me. It's not worth it."

She knew I was mad out of jealousy—and flipped it into a status play.

Smart.

Her eyes went red on cue. I almost laughed. "Ellie, you like riding, right? I'll give you a horse. Ride whenever you want."

Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

My voice went cold. "Know your place. You're just an assistant. If it's not yours, don't touch it."

Troy finally clocked that I was actually mad and rushed over. "Belinda, I'm sorry. Today's our anniversary—and your birthday."

He leaned in close. "I didn't get you a gift this year. So I thought... I'd give you me."

He shifted, just enough to show the bow at his neck.

I'd known Troy for ten years. Been with him for eight.

Every time he forgot my birthday, he pulled the same move to get me to forgive him.

Eight years—seven times.

I really thought this year would be different. Our last year before marriage.

Yeah. I overthought that.

From start to finish, I was the one giving more.

At dinner, I barely spoke.

At first, he tried—jokes, small talk, all of it. Trying to get a smile out of me.

A few tries in, he gave up. Got annoyed.

Only after we got home did he switch back to his usual easygoing self.

He brushed a kiss against the corner of my lips. "I'll shower first. Wait for your gift."

I followed him into the bedroom.

Stuff was already laid out across the bed.

Real subtle.

That was part of why I'd stayed so devoted to Troy.

He always knew how to smooth things over after pushing me too far.

My expression darkened. I grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the guest bathroom.

The second I walked in, something felt off.

In the trash—worn women's underwear. Still stained.

Bold lace. Definitely not mine.

He'd asked me to wear stuff like that before. I always said no.

My chest sank.

I went back and sat on the bed, waiting.

Troy came out in a sheer shirt, grabbed a pair of cat ears, and slipped them on. "Belinda, help me with the tail?"

I held it, not moving. "Why is there women's underwear in the guest bathroom trash?"

Troy froze. Panic flashed in his eyes. "That... I don't know. I'll ask tomorrow. Maybe Margaret tossed it by mistake."

Margaret. The housekeeper.

"She's over sixty. Why would she wear something like that?"

"I—"

He scrambled off the bed, trying to explain, coming up with nothing.

Then his phone rang—sharp, urgent.

He picked up. Two sentences in, his face changed.

He ripped off the cat ears, grabbed a coat, and headed out.

I caught his hand. "Where are you going?"

"Ellie got in a car accident on the way back. She's alone here. I'm going to check on her."

I didn't let go. "Send someone from HR. You don't need to go yourself."

His face darkened. "Belinda Beaumont, can you stop making everything about you? She's alone in Rivera—that's hard enough. I just want to help her, and you're jealous of this? That's childish."

That anger made everything I'd done feel stupid.

The last bit of hope I had left dropped straight into disappointment.

I watched him walk out, then called my dad.

"Dad, I'll do the arranged marriage."

After Troy left, I looked around the house I'd lived in for five years.

I bought this place for him after the company went public.

I wanted a real home with him—not just another house.

Ten years ago, I fell for Troy at first sight.

I chased him for two years before he finally said yes.

After graduation, I chose him. Cut ties with my family. Turned down my dad's offer to take over the business.

I never went back.

I left everything—my old life, my friends—and stayed here with him.

He said Ellie had no one here.

Did I?

Eight years later, what did I get?

His lies. And the distance growing between us.

Because of the fallout with my dad, I couldn't touch any family business.

So I jumped into entertainment—something I knew nothing about.

Back then, we had each other's backs. Every day was about keeping the company alive.

That was when we were closest.

Later, the company went public.

And just like that, everything changed.

He met more people. Got more ambitious. Started looking down on how careful I was.

To him, I was holding the company back.

Fine.

Then I wouldn't hold it back anymore.

I packed all night.

Didn't stop until dawn.

That's when Troy finally texted.

[Ellie's leg is injured. I'll be at the hospital for a while.]

I replied with two words:

[Do whatever.]

***

The next day, I went to the office, pulled up the accounts, and called a lawyer to split the shares.

Back when we started, I'd wanted to hand him everything. He played the decent guy, said he wouldn't take advantage, so we signed an agreement.

Fifty-fifty split, if it ever came to that. Final say on everything stayed with me—no approval needed.

I signed my name next to his from eight years ago.

Time felt fake in that moment—like an arrow cutting through eight years, landing straight in my chest.

I worked straight through till two before it hit me—I hadn't eaten.

Right then, Troy pushed the door open. Ellie trailed behind him on crutches.

He set the food down. "Come eat."

"I heard from your secretary you've been working nonstop and skipped meals again." He looked at me like I was the problem. "Didn't you promise to take care of yourself?"

I glanced at Ellie. "Wasn't she supposed to stay in the hospital?"

He smiled, of course. "She said the company's busy and felt bad taking leave. Insisted on coming in. Even closed a deal this morning. Ellie's really capable. Just let yesterday go."

Yeah, sure.

I got up and walked to the table. "Alright."

I was leaving anyway. No point arguing.

As I passed Ellie, she grabbed my sleeve.

"Ms. Beaumont, I know you're unhappy with me. But don't worry, I'll stay in my place. Could you withdraw the penalty? People are already gossiping."

Troy frowned. "What penalty?"

She pulled up the notice on her phone. "HR marked me absent without leave yesterday."

Troy instantly pulled out his phone to call HR.

"Her absence is a fact. Calling now will just make more people talk."

His face darkened. "Why would you do that?"

"She was absent. I followed policy."

He shot to his feet. "Don't hide behind policy. You're the boss—policy is whatever you say. You took this out on her just to embarrass me."

I stayed calm. "Collateral damage. Sorry."

"You—!"

Ellie glanced between us, then rushed in, "I'm sorry. I'll accept the penalty. Ms. Beaumont, please don't be mad at Troy—ah!"

She tilted—then dropped straight onto the coffee table.

Dishes and soup splashed all over her.

"Ms. Beaumont, why did you push me?"

Troy shoved me aside, panic all over his face.

He dropped next to Ellie. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?

"Belinda, if you're mad, take it out on me. Why drag someone else into it?"

The shove caught me off guard—I went down hard onto shattered glass.

"I didn't push her."

He shot me a look. "Then she just fell on her own?"

I pushed myself up, careful of the shards. Blood from my palm dripped onto the white carpet, spreading fast.

Troy froze for a second, like he might say something—

"Troy, my leg hurts so much."

He instantly panicked, already dialing. "I'll get you to the hospital right away.

"Belinda, I'll deal with you when I get back."

When the paramedics carried Ellie out, he didn't even give them a minute to bandage me.

"Troy, Ms. Beaumont is hurt too—"

He let out a cold laugh. "It's just a scratch. She won't die. She brought it on herself. If she hadn't pushed you, none of this would've happened."

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, the hesitation was gone.

Leaving was the right call.

***

For a week, Troy didn't come home.

He sent one message—the day Ellie landed in the hospital.

[Because of your shove, her fracture turned into a full break. Belinda, I never knew you were this cold. So cold I'm starting to question whether being with you was ever the right choice.]

I was already leaving, but yeah—it still stung.

He bought Ellie's story, no hesitation. Didn't even bother checking the cameras.

I typed my reply. [Then let's break up.]

Sent.

Undelivered.

He'd blocked me.

I tossed my phone aside and started the share transfer.

My shares were worth a few billion. No way I was walking away from that.

So I transferred everything to people I trusted.

Before I signed, they checked with me—again and again.

"Once you give up your shares, you're done with Troy."

"You've loved him for years. You even planned proposals. You really letting go?"

I signed. "It's already over."

Not just me—Troy was done too.

The past few days, Ellie wouldn't shut up online:

[The cream soup he made is so good. Just a pain to cook. Next time, I'll do it.]

[Taking care of a patient is exhausting. I won't get hurt again. I hate seeing him this tired.]

[He's kinda cute when he's asleep.]

Her last post was from last night. Rare photo.

Troy, asleep next to her.

Blurred, but I knew it was him.

The necklace on the bedside gave it away—the one I made for our first anniversary.

He never took it off.

Until now.

For another woman.

I paused, then posted:

[Leaving the city I've lived in for ten years is easier than I thought.]

Then I walked into the airport.

Didn't look back.