Just because I point out a mistake in the intern, Lester Hale's proposal that can cost the company millions of dollars, he feels embarrassed and goes straight to Sandra Wendell, the CEO, threatening to quit.

The next second, she storms into my office and starts grilling me. "Couldn't you have spoken to him privately? Lester's young, and his ego's fragile. Why did you have to humiliate him in front of everyone? Don't forget, his dad's a major shareholder. I'm giving you two options now.

"One, I'll promote Lester, give him a raise, and you'll become his assistant. That way, I'll agree to officially announce our relationship. Two, keep acting like this, and we break up."

When I remain silent, she smirks triumphantly. "I knew you'd never pass up a chance to go public with our relationship. Now, you can clear your office for Lester. Later—"

But I calmly cut her off, "Sorry, but I choose the second option, and I'm resigning. I wish you and Lester a happily ever after."

"Fred Sloan, do you even know what you're saying?"

Sandra Wendell stormed over to confront me. This was the first time I'd seen her lose control like this.

I repeated flatly, "I'm resigning. It's over between us."

Without saying another word, I turned back to my desk and began packing my things.

I'd been with Wendell Group since its founding, and I'd spent years in this office. There was a lot to pack.

I placed my thermos, blanket, and other personal items into a box, then started going through the work files.

These were all projects I led, and many of those clients only agreed to work with us because of me. But I couldn't follow through on them anymore.

Sandra watched me like a hawk and said coldly, "Fred, you're 34. You've made it to deputy CEO. That's not an easy achievement. You know how bad the economy is right now. Are you seriously going to throw this all away on a whim?"

Instead of answering, I printed out my resignation letter and signed it.

Sandra's frown deepened.

Just then, Lester Hale, the intern, walked in carrying a cup of coffee. He stole a cautious glance at me and said, "Ms. Wendell, is Fred doing this because of me? Is he resigning to force me out? I won't put you in a tough spot, Ms. Wendell. Fred is a veteran here. I should be the one to go."

His eyes, red around the edges, shone with sadness.

Any hesitation in Sandra's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by nothing but deep annoyance toward me.

"Fred, I've given you an out, but you didn't appreciate it. Do you really think the company can't survive without you?

"Fine. You want to resign? Go ahead. I approve it."

With that, she grabbed the resignation letter, signed it with a sharp motion, and threw it at me.

"You're not an employee here anymore. Take your things and get out."

Her coldness stung.

Sandra and I had met back in college. Coming from a poor background, I spent all my time buried in my books, which often made me a target for my coursemates' ridicule.

Sandra was the one who had always stepped in to defend me, ate lunch with me, and even pursued me.

For four years, she was nothing but kind to me. After graduation, we established Wendell Group together and faced the toughest times side by side.

We had promised each other that we would get married once the company was stable.

But everything changed when Lester's father became a major shareholder and made him an intern.

Lester was lazy and often made mistakes. When I pointed them out, Sandra would warn me not to pick on the newcomer.

I stood my ground, always putting Wendell Group's interests first, yet she repeatedly humiliated me just to protect him.

Now, simply because I called him out in a meeting, she was using our relationship to push me out.

I should've let go a long time ago.

As soon as I stepped out of the company, it started drizzling. And of course, I'd forgotten my umbrella.

As the rain hit my skin, the cold seeped straight through.

I thought about taking a cab, but when I checked my bank balance and wallet, I found that I only had 50 cents left. I couldn't even afford a ride.

Over the years, I had handed over my entire salary for Sandra to manage because she said we'd have plenty of expenses after we married.

To ensure that I wouldn't spend recklessly, she had me run every small purchase by her.

But when it came to Lester, she was always generous. Just last week, she bought him a three-million-dollar sports car.

The difference between being loved and not being loved couldn't be more obvious.

I smiled bitterly and walked home in the rain.

I finally got to the house Sandra and I shared. I was just about to change out of my shoes when I saw her in the kitchen. She was standing behind Lester, tying his apron, her expression tender.

"Ms. Wendell, just stand there. I promise I'll cook something that's perfectly to your taste," Lester said.

"Really? I'm pretty picky, you know," Sandra replied playfully.

The two of them flirted as if no one else was in the room. Their interactions were warm and harmonious.

Then, Sandra noticed me standing by the door. The smile faded from her face, and she coldly said, "Lester, just make enough for the two of us. After all, someone's got too much pride today. I'm sure he wouldn't want to eat here."

I knew what she was implying, but I didn't respond. I just bent down to change my shoes.

Frowning, Sandra raised her chin and shot me a glance. "Fred, since you're back, I assume that you've realized your mistake. Why are you just standing there? Apologize to Lester and make it right. I'll let this morning's incident slide then. I'll also keep your position in the company."

She was so focused on Lester that she didn't even notice how soaked I was, let alone care if I'd catch a cold.

Seeing her act so high and mighty, I felt nothing but a bitter chill. No matter how good we once were together, it was over between us.

Without uttering a single word, I walked past her and toward the balcony to gather the laundry.

Sandra, stung by my cold shoulder, was about to speak when Lester deliberately bumped into me with a bowl of soup.

He let out a theatrical cry of pain and flung himself to the floor, soaking himself in the spilled soup.

He yelled, "Ah! It's so hot! Fred, even if you're mad at me, you don't need to go this far!"

He lay there, clutching his burned hand.

This was Lester's go-to move for driving a wedge between Sandra and me. At the office, he would pretend to work late just to claim that I was mistreating him, or he would splash water on himself and tell Sandra that I'd lashed out at him.

I used to ignore it, but not this time.

If he wanted to play the victim, I'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

I grabbed a plate from the table. Before Lester could even stand up, I dumped the stir-fried dish right on top of him.

Greasy sauce dripped from his hair. Lester screamed, and his eyes brimmed with tears.

Sandra rushed over and pushed me aside before roaring, "Fred, are you crazy? Why are you always picking on Lester? You've really disappointed me."

I smirked. "Disappointed, huh? Well, that's great. Let's stay out of each other's lives forever."

Sandra's face turned bright red with fury, and she couldn't say anything for a long time. Meanwhile, Lester was still moaning, so she had no choice but to bring him to the hospital.

As the door slammed shut behind them, the house finally grew quiet.

I let out a sigh, and it felt like a weight lifted off my chest.

Sandra and I were really over.

At that thought, I pulled out my phone and dialed the HR department at Skyborne Group, the top company in the field.

"I'm accepting your offer," I said.

Over the years, many top companies had tried to poach me because of my outstanding work.

Skyborne Group was one of them. They had made me offers before, with salaries and benefits three times what I was making.

But I turned them all down, focusing only on Sandra. I gave everything to Wendell Group and worked tirelessly for her.

In the end, I was thrown aside like a tool, left with absolutely nothing.

Now, it was time for me to think about my future.

When I said that, the HR representative on the phone sounded genuinely happy. "Mr. Sloan, I'm so glad that you've made up your mind! Could you come in tomorrow to finalize your employment?"

"No problem," I replied.

After hanging up, I started packing my things, ready to leave and sever ties with Sandra once and for all.

As I gathered my documents, I noticed the figurine I had made for Sandra in a corner.

It was my birthday gift to her. Each careful cut was a reflection of how much I cared for and loved her.

I remembered how happy she'd been when she had first received it. She had smiled and said that it was the most meaningful birthday gift she'd ever gotten.

When she had seen the countless small nicks and cuts on my hands, she had rushed to get the first-aid kit. As she cleaned my wounds, she promised that she would treasure that gift forever.

But now, the figurine was just gathering dust in a corner. The wooden box I'd bought for it was filled with photos of her and Lester.

The stack of photos was thick, spanning spring through winter. The backgrounds shifted with the seasons, but the two people in them never changed.

Just like our relationship, once Lester came into the picture, there was no room left for me in Sandra's heart.

I should've known better. Trying to salvage a relationship with someone who had already moved on was a losing battle.

At that thought, I threw the dusty figurine into the trash. The gift was just like me—discarded.

After that, I went back to packing my things. There wasn't much to pack, so it didn't take me long.

It was almost laughable. I had lived in this house for six years, yet my belongings couldn't even fill a small suitcase.

Still, once everything was packed, the house felt emptier.

I grabbed the suitcase and took a cab back to my old apartment. This was the place I'd bought before living with Sandra.

But later, to make it easier to look after Sandra, I moved in with her. This apartment had been sitting vacant ever since. I hardly spent any time living here after the renovations.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by the minimalist decor I'd always loved.

Before, I'd had to adjust to Sandra's preferences, so our shared home was decorated according to her tastes, and the furniture was arranged as she liked.

Now, I didn't have to compromise anymore. I could live however I wanted. I could put up whatever wallpaper I wanted and decorate however I pleased.

After settling in, I was about to call a cleaning service when Sandra's name popped up on my phone.

I expected her to be angry, but to my surprise, her tone was unusually soft. "Give it a rest, Fred. Lester is being generous by forgiving you after what you did to him.

"Stay home and rest this afternoon. Tomorrow, you'll be Lester's assistant and help him with the projects. In three days, we'll register our marriage and have the wedding. That should finally be enough to make you happy, right?"

Listening to the conditions for her to marry me, all I could feel was a sharp, bitter sense of irony.