“Vincent, it hurts so much,” Zoe whimpered, her voice soft and frail.

He hesitated, torn between wanting to help her and the fact that I was standing right there. His expression twisted into an uncomfortable mix of guilt and indecision.

I spoke first, breaking the tension. “If it hurts that badly, you should take her to a hospital. You wouldn’t want it to turn into something serious.”

My words surprised him—he wasn’t expecting me to be so calm, so understanding.

Vincent’s eyes softened as he reached for my hand. “I’ll take her to the nearby clinic and return for you. Wait for me at the entrance, okay?”

“Sure,” I replied lightly.

He looked at me for a moment as though searching for anger or reproach in my face. But I stayed composed, not giving anything away. Finally, he released my hand, scooped Zoe up in his arms and walked off.

I didn’t wait. I wasn’t going to play the fool this time.

***

As I was leaving, my phone buzzed with a call from a junior colleague at the lab.

“Miss Claire, we’ve got an abnormality in one of the experiments and no one can figure out what’s causing it. Could you come take a look?”

Without hesitation, I headed straight there.

Time flew as we worked through the problem and the sun was already rising when the wrong link was also found and repaired.

The younger researchers showered me with compliments. “Miss Claire, you’re a genius!”

Finally, they were reluctant to let me go again, “Miss Claire, are you really leaving for that classified research project?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

“But what about your wedding?” one of them asked hesitantly.

“Are you really okay with leaving?”

I paused for a moment, then smiled. “The country’s work is more important.”

What I didn’t say was that, for Vincent, my presence or absence didn’t seem to matter anymore.

This world keeps spinning, with or without me.

***

Dragging my exhausted body home, I opened the door and she was again.

Zoe Williams.

She was wearing one of Vincent’s shirts, her bare legs peeking out as she walked out of the master bedroom.

When she saw me, she didn’t even flinch. “Don’t misunderstand, Claire,” she said casually. “After the clinic visit, it was really late. I didn’t want to go home since my parents were out of town. Vincent was just being considerate—he didn’t want me to be alone while I’m injured.”

Before I could respond, Vincent stepped out of the bathroom, his hair damp from a shower. When he saw me, probably thinking I would get upset again, his brows furrowed, bracing for another argument.

“Claire,” he sighed, “I don’t want to mess with you early in the morning.”

“She’s coming to work with me today and didn’t have anything to wear, so I lent her one of my shirts—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted, cutting him off.

Both of them froze, caught off guard by my calm tone.

Vincent looked at me incredulously as if he felt my reaction was too calm.

He explained, “Last night, she slept in the guest room,” he said quickly, as though trying to preempt any accusations. “Don’t overthink things—”

I interrupted again, my voice steady. “I’m not overthinking. You two grew up together. You’ve always seen her as a sister. You even said the guest room is basically hers, open to her anytime and that she doesn’t need my permission to come over. I remember.”

Vincent faltered, the fight draining from his posture. When he spoke again, his tone was softer.

“I’m glad that you can think this way. I really want you and Zoe to get along.”

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. It was the courier I had scheduled.

Vincent finally noticed the piles of boxes I’d packed and stacked neatly in the living room.

His expression darkened as he walked over to inspect them.

“Claire, what do you mean?” he demanded, his voice tight. “You don’t want all the things I gave you?”

I was just about to open my mouth to reply when he reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a small music box. Inside was a spinning figurine of a bride in a white wedding dress.

His hand trembled slightly as he held it up and I noticed his eyes reddening.

“You’re throwing this away too?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

That music box was from years ago, back when we had nothing. He couldn’t afford a grand gesture or a ring, but he’d given me that little box, promising, “One day, I will make you my bride.”

I had believed him. But reality gave me a slap in the face.

Love doesn’t work when there are three people in the relationship. It was too crowded.

And I didn’t want to stay anymore.

To avoid unnecessary drama, I spoke gently, “You are overthinking it. I’m not throwing these things away. I’m letting the professionals do all the refurbishing for me. How could I not want them?”

Seeing the calm expression on my face, Vincent visibly relaxed.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll arrange for someone to install a whole new set of cabinets at home to store these things properly.”

I nodded. “Aren’t you two heading to work? You should go. I need to catch up on sleep.”

With that, I turned and walked toward the bedroom, locking the door behind me before he could say anything else.

***

I tore another page off the countdown calendar when I woke up in the afternoon. There were five days left.

I got a message from my professor, asking me to look for him to discuss the publication of my recent SCI paper, which had just been released in a major journal.

Vincent, however, called out of the blue. I said I had to go to my university and he said he would be right downstairs and send me.

Zoe was already sitting in the passenger seat when I got to the car.

I hesitated for just a second before silently getting into the back.

Zoe’s laughter broke the silence. “Claire, don’t be upset. Vincent’s always let me ride up front. Back when he used to drive my dad’s car, I’d always sit in the passenger seat. They say sitting in the back makes it feel like you’re treating the driver like a chauffeur. It’s rude, you know? So, I got used to it.”

I was not upset. In fact, I smiled warmly. “You can sit there if you want.”

Vincent glanced at me several times through the rearview mirror, searching for a conversation starter.

“On the way here,” he began, “I saw this article about a med student named ‘Olivia Claire.’ Apparently, they published a groundbreaking paper that could create enormous value for the country. Funny enough, it’s in the same field as yours, late time.”

I didn’t respond. Olivia Claire was actually the pseudonym I used to publish my paper—a precaution my professor had insisted on for security reasons.

Before Vincent could press further, Zoe turned in her seat, her voice dripping with sweetness.

“Claire, you’ve been studying for so many years, but I haven’t heard about you achieving anything big like that.” She gasped, covering her mouth theatrically. “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just say things bluntly—no offense!”

Even Vincent’s gaze turned disdainful.

“Claire,” he said, his tone patronizing, “sometimes you have to accept that there’s a difference between people. You’ve been running yourself ragged for years, but it’s just aimless effort. After the wedding, why don’t you be a full-time housewife? I’ve reached a point in my career where you don’t need to work anymore.”

I offered a noncommittal response and turned my attention to my phone, replying to my professor’s messages. Their words no longer bothered me.

***

Two blocks from my university, Zoe asked to be dropped off.

“Thanks for the ride, Vincent. Love you!” she chirped, winking at me as she stepped out.

Then, winking at me specifically, “Sister, I am leaving first.”

I looked at the neighbourhood’s name and casually asked, “This isn’t the neighbourhood of our wedding house?”

“Oh,” Vincent replied lightly, “she’s probably visiting a friend.”

I didn’t press further.

Sensing my silence, he added, “She’s still injured, so I thought I’d drop her off on the way. Don’t be so petty.”

My expression remained calm and I said, “Oh, it’s perfectly normal for an older brother to give his sister a ride. Isn’t it?”

His words caught in his throat.

***

When we arrived at the university, Vincent pulled a large bouquet of flowers from the trunk and shoved it into my arms.

“I know you’ve been upset these past few days,” he said, his tone coaxing. “I’m sorry, okay? This is me making it up to you.”

“And if it’s about the wedding dress—you’re right. Let’s forget about it. I’ll have a re-custom one made for you by a top designer. How’s that?”

His face was full of expectation, as though I should feel grateful for his ‘effort’.

I glanced at his phone, where he was scrolling through images of extravagant wedding gowns, but my interest had long since faded.

None of it mattered anymore. I was leaving soon.

I gently pushed his phone away and handed the flowers back to him. “Pick whatever you like. My professor is waiting for me.”

As I turned to walk away, Vincent grabbed my hand, “Claire,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “what’s wrong with you? What’s really going on?”

For the first time, his expression was filled with confusion, even a hint of panic and loss.

What’s wrong with me?

What was wrong was that I had already decided to leave. But I didn’t want to argue, so I patted Vincent’s hand gently.

“We’ll talk about it after I’m done, okay?”

***

My professor was thrilled with the success of my latest paper.

“This is incredible work! But... are you sure you’re ready for the research institute? Life there can be dull, you know. Experiments and data, day in and day out—can you handle the isolation?”

I nodded, the memory of Vincent’s condescending attitude in the car still fresh in my mind.

I straightened my posture and spoke with quiet determination. “Don’t worry, Professor. I won’t lose your face.”

“You?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re one of the best—handpicked for this role by the government itself! Let me be clear: I’m the lucky one to have you on my team.”

Leaving his office, I spotted my junior colleague scowling in the window.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Miss Claire,” she fumed, “wasn’t that your boyfriend I just saw outside? He was sharing a cup of bubble tea with a woman! That’s so inappropriate—doesn’t he care about boundaries? Isn’t this basically betrayal?”

I smiled faintly. “It’s fine. That’s his… sister.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Sister?”

I understood her disbelief. Vincent had lost both his parents when he was young and Zoe’s family had taken pity on him, offering him shelter. Later, when Vincent became successful, he naturally helped Zoe, his so-called sister.

But my junior colleague wasn’t convinced. Her indignation only grew. “Really funny! Sister? Yeah, right! This is classic green tea behavior. Senior, let me handle this for you—I’ll tear her apart!”

I quickly grabbed her arm. “Don’t act rashly.”

After all, I’d tried that before. I’d argued, fought and accused, only for Vincent to look at me coldly and say, “Claire, you’re being ridiculous. You, of all people, should understand my relationship with Zoe. Jealousy like this is beneath you.”

He was right—jealousy was meaningless. Especially now. I didn’t want to stir up any trouble before I left.

So, I told my junior there were still a few days before I left and asked her to help me keep it a secret.

She hesitated. “So… are you still going through with the wedding?”

I shook my head.

“No,” I said softly. “I’m leaving. There’s no point.”

The words just fell.

Before I could explain further, Vincent’s voice came from behind me.

“Claire, where are you leaving?”