“This afternoon, in the company group chat, I saw his post on social media. Said he was sick and craving the loaded congee from that place on the south side of town.”

Serena's face darkened the instant she was caught. Her voice climbed a full register.

“Stuart, are you seriously addicted to checking up on me now?”

“Roger had a rough day at the office. He didn't even eat dinner. I picked up a bowl on my way past. How does that make me a monster?”

“I bought an extra one and brought it home for you. You're a grown man. Do you really have to be this petty and jealous?”

She was completely righteous about it. In her mind, I was the one being unreasonable.

I didn't argue.

“I'm not hungry. Go ahead and eat.”

I turned back to packing my clothes.

Before, something like this would have sent me straight into a fight. I would have demanded to know who she actually put first.

But now all I felt was tired.

The specific kind of tired that comes from fighting over someone who was never yours to begin with.

Serena stared at my calm back. Something about it didn't sit right with her.

“What are you doing? Packing in the middle of the night?”

“Heading back to my hometown in a few days.” I didn't turn around.

“You're still throwing a fit?” She let out a cold laugh. “Fine. You want to go sulk at home for a few days, go ahead.”

“The company's swamped right now anyway. Roger can barely keep up on his own.”

“Whenever you're done with this little tantrum, buy yourself a ticket back.”

She tossed off her coat, slammed the bedroom door behind her, and went to shower.

I folded my last coat and set it in the suitcase.

Through the rush of water from the bathroom, I took out my phone.

Opened the chat with the real estate agent.

“Mr. Wang, the condo under my name. Your floor price works. I can sign the transfer contract tomorrow.”

That was the apartment I'd bought back when Serena was just starting the company. Down payment from my parents' retirement savings.

I was getting rid of it overnight.

Every last thread tying me to her. I wanted none of it.

The next day, I went to the office as usual for the handover.

The entire planning department already knew I'd had a blowout with Ms. Vance the day before. The atmosphere was strange.

I had just finished organizing the files for my key client accounts.

That was when Roger walked in with Serena's secretary.

“Hey, Stu. Serena said you should transfer the Grandview Corp deal to me.”

He was wearing a brand-new designer shirt today. And there on his wrist, bright as ever, was my gold watch.

I looked up at him.

“I've been on the Grandview deal for almost a year. We're about to sign. You just came off probation. You can't handle it.”

“Is it that you don't trust my abilities, Stu, or that you just can't let go of the commission?” The corner of Roger's mouth twitched upward, smugness he didn't bother hiding.

“Ms. Vance approved this personally.” The secretary placed a document in front of me.

Serena's bold, sweeping signature across the bottom：Approved for transfer.

I stared at that signature and almost laughed.

It wasn't enough for Serena to take my feelings. She had to take my work, too, and lay it at Roger's feet like a stepping stone to prop him up.

I said nothing. Signed the handover sheet, clean and quick.

“Take it.”

Roger scooped up the files, grinning.

“Thanks, Stu. Serena was right about you. Bit of a temper, sure, but when push comes to shove, you know when to fall in line.”

“Oh, one more thing. Serena wants me to take over your private office. Says I'll be handling the major clients now, so I need a better setup.”

He pointed at the personal items on my desk.

“Stu, be a pal and have all this cleared out today, yeah?”

A murmur of whispers rippled through the colleagues gathered outside the door.

Everyone in the company thought Ms. Vance had gone too far.

Kicking out the fiancé who'd built the business with her, replacing him with a fresh college grad.

I picked up the framed photo of me and Serena from the desk.

It was from our first year. The two of us in that rented basement, eating instant noodles, grinning at the camera.

She'd been laughing so sincerely in that picture, telling me we were going to make something of ourselves.

I slid the photo out of the frame and fed it into the shredder beside the desk.

One “click,” and it was confetti.

Roger flinched at how fast I'd done it.

That was when Serena walked in.

She saw the box I was packing and her brows drew together hard.

“Stuart, what are you doing?”

“You told me to clear out the office.” I didn't even look up.

Her face tightened. She dropped her voice:

“I told you to move to one of the open desks! The Grandview client specifically asked for Roger as point of contact. He needs a proper office!”

“Do you really have to humiliate me right now?”

“Be reasonable. Once the deal closes, I'll split the commission with you fifty-fifty. Isn't that enough?”

She was barely holding her temper, speaking in that tone she always used when she thought she was doing someone a favor.

I placed the last photo frame into the cardboard box and looked up.

“Ms. Vance, the handover checklist is signed.”

“I don't want a single cent of the commission.”

I picked up the box, stepped around her, and walked out.

“Stuart!” she called after me, a thread of panic slipping into her voice that she probably didn't even hear herself. “Don't burn this bridge!”

I didn't slow down.

I was never the one burning bridges.

My last day at the company, Serena threw a celebration dinner at the five-star hotel across from the office to mark the Grandview Corp deal closing.

All I actually needed to do was stop by Finance in the afternoon, collect my final paycheck, and leave.

But her secretary called and said Ms. Vance required my attendance at the dinner.

“Ms. Vance says you were the one who cultivated this account. If you don't show, she'll take it as a personal insult.”

I looked at the suitcase I'd already packed, then changed into a plain button-down and slacks and headed to the hotel.

The banquet hall was loud with clinking glasses and small talk.

Roger was gliding between clients in an expensive dark-patterned suit, wine glass in hand.

Serena stood right beside him, shielding him from drink-for-drink toasts with fierce, almost possessive protectiveness, her eyes soft with indulgence.

“Stu, why'd you show up dressed like that?” Roger materialized at my side, eyes widening with fake surprise at my white shirt and casual pants.

“I actually thought you weren't coming.”

He held a glass of red wine and deliberately clinked it against mine.

“Director Wang from Grandview praised my proposal. Serena said she's buying me a car as a reward.”

He gave his wrist a little shake. The gold watch struck the crystal rim of his glass with a bright, deliberate clink.

I lifted my gaze and let it settle on his face. Cold.

“Good for you.”

My complete indifference was what finally set him off.

As he passed me, his elbow swung out and caught my glass. The full pour of red wine splashed straight down my chest.

My white shirt went dark red in an instant.

Gasps rippled through the room. Every eye in the hall snapped toward us.

“Oh, sorry, Stu. Didn't see you standing there.”

His voice was light, almost bored, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Serena strode over and pulled Roger behind her in one motion.

She took one look at the mess I was wearing, her brow creased, and her voice came out sharp with blame.

“Stuart, I already let it slide that you showed up to a formal dinner in casual clothes. Now you have to cause a scene and make everyone uncomfortable?”

She didn't even ask what happened. Just assumed I was making a scene, picking a fight with her precious assistant.

I stood up, pulled a few napkins from the dispenser, and calmly dabbed at the wine stain on my shirt.

“He threw his drink on me,” I said. Just stating the fact.

“Roger didn't do it on purpose. Do you really have to stand there acting like the victim?”

Serena's voice dripped with impatience.

“It's a cheap shirt. I'll buy you ten to replace it.”

“Roger's the hero of tonight. You're a man. Can't you be a little bigger about this?”

She shielded Roger like he was made of glass, terrified I might so much as touch a hair on his head.

I looked at the woman in front of me.

Through her expensive tailored blazer, I could almost see the girl from five years ago, the one who'd pulled off her jacket in the pouring rain and draped it over my shoulders.

That girl had told me once that even if the whole world misunderstood me, she would stand by my side.

That girl was long dead.

Killed off somewhere between the networking events and her own swelling arrogance.

The last hidden flicker of hope in my chest turned to ash.

“Forget the replacement.” I tossed the wine-soaked napkins onto the table.

“You're right, Serena. It's just a cheap shirt.”

“Same as this relationship. Once something's been dirtied, it stays dirty.”

I turned around and grabbed my jacket.

“Stuart! Where do you think you're going now?” Serena's voice cut sharply from behind me.

She was so used to me backing down that she thought I was just turning away to force her to chase me.

“Home.”

“If you walk out that door, don't ever come back!” She hurled a wine glass.

“Fine.” I didn't look back. I walked straight out of the banquet hall.

I pulled out my phone and called an Uber to the train station.

This time, I meant it.