Melanie stared at the photo on the floor, tears slipping down her face again.

She bent down to pick it up, not even noticing when tiny shards of glass pierced through her fingers.

In the picture, she was smiling brightly, leaning slightly toward Edwin. But he? He looked so distant like he didn't even want to be there.

It was nothing like the photo of him and Maurice on that keychain.

That's when she finally got it: love and indifference—they'd always been clear. She was just too stupid to see it.

This villa had been her home for eight years. Every corner of it was filled with her things. But so much of it—too much—had been gifts from Edwin.

She decided she didn't need to keep any of it.

Piece by piece, she packed everything he'd given her into boxes. It took a few trips to carry it all down to the storage room.

When she was done, all she had left was one suitcase.

As she stepped out of the house, she ran right into Edwin.

He glanced at the suitcase she was pulling, his brows furrowing slightly, but he didn't say a word.

Her heart ached as he brushed past her without a word. It felt like swallowing a thousand needles, but she still forced herself to speak.

"Ed, my department's really busy this week. I'm going to stay at the company for a few days."

She'd taken on some freelance projects recently. Once she finished them, she'd finally have enough money to pay him back. Between that and her savings from college, she could finally clear her debt to him.

Then she could leave for good.

He paused for a second, but his tone stayed cold. "Do what you want."

And just like that, he walked back inside. No other words. No attempt to stop her.

Her eyes stung as she dragged her suitcase out the door.

She couldn't help but think back to when he first brought her here. He'd told her this was her home. He'd told her that he'd always be there for her.

When her parents abandoned her, Edwin was the one who pieced her heart back together.

No matter how busy he was, he'd come home every night to eat with her. On weekends, he'd take her hiking or camping. He even introduced her to his friends.

"This is my baby," he'd say with a grin. "She's going to be a big designer one day!"

Eight years of warmth and promises… gone, just like that.

She pulled her suitcase to the gate and was about to call for a ride when a delivery guy in a Southern Roots Kitchen uniform walked up to her, holding a fancy food container.

It was from her favorite restaurant.

"Hi, are you Miss Henley? This is your order," he said.

She blinked, confused. "I didn't order anything."

The delivery guy showed her the receipt. "The number ends in 3981. Isn't that yours? The address matches here, too."

That number—it was Edwin's.

The delivery guy looked at her, a bit impatient. "I tried calling the number earlier, but no one answered. Are you Miss Henley?"

After a moment, she nodded quietly and signed for the food. She took the container and set her suitcase aside.

She figured she'd give it to the maid. It wasn't hers, anyway. A glance at the receipt told her everything—these were all dishes Maurice liked.

As she walked back to the door, she saw Edwin heading her way, phone in hand, talking to someone.

When he spotted her, his steps faltered for a second before he said into the phone, "Got it. I'll be there soon.

When he hung up, he looked at her with the same calm, distant expression as always. "Did you book the ride?"

Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to nod.

She only had 30 bucks left. If she was careful, it might last 10 days, but there was no way she could afford a cab.

Still, she nodded, not wanting him to worry.

"Cancel it," Edwin said suddenly.

She looked up in confusion.

Without looking at her, he explained in a firm, cold voice, "I'm leaving for a two-day business trip. Maurice doesn't like being alone, so stay here for a few more days and keep her company. When I'm back, we'll talk. Take any car from the garage to get to work."

Her heart sank, but she didn't argue—just moved to the smallest room at the end of the hallway.

The room didn't have the spacious floor-to-ceiling windows she was used to—just two tiny ones that barely gave her a glimpse of the ocean.

Even though no one had roomed there for a while, it was spotless. The bedding had been freshly replaced, but she didn't bother unpacking.

She spread her suitcase on the floor, grabbed a few essentials, and left the rest untouched. She wanted to be ready to leave at any moment.

That night dragged on forever, but eventually, morning came.

Melanie got up early, went downstairs, and started helping prepare breakfast.

She noticed the time and realized it was almost time for work, but Maurice still hadn't come down. When she asked about it, one of the maids casually mentioned, "Miss Maurice went with Sir Edwin on his trip."

Edwin had always been strict about keeping work and personal life separate.

When Melanie wanted to join the game development department at Setchfield Square, she had to go through the proper hiring process and assessments like everyone else.

But now, he'd taken Maurice on a business trip?

Melanie couldn't explain how she felt. The breakfast on her plate might as well have been cardboard. All she knew was that she was about to be late.

At the office, her colleague Crista Joyce was the first to greet her.

When Crista heard that Melanie was planning to resign, the former gasped in shock. "Wait, what? Are you serious? But President Setchfield already approved your project proposal! They're going to announce your promotion any day now!"

On Melanie's first day, the department head asked everyone to submit a proposal along with a project plan.

Since she was new, she wasn't required to participate. But then, the department head casually asked if she had any ideas.

Back then, her reason for joining Edwin's company wasn't just because of him—it was because this company was the perfect place to bring her ideas to life.

She took the chance when the department head asked her; she brought up an old game concept she'd worked on before.

But she'd barely gotten through half her presentation before she fainted from a fever and ended up missing work for days. She had no idea anyone had paid attention to her pitch.

Back then, she'd shown it to Edwin once. He hadn't been impressed, dismissing it as "too risky." Businesses value profit, and just a few words doomed her concept to have no future.

"Melanie," Crista said earnestly, "you can't leave! You're so talented, and President Setchfield clearly values your work. Girl, how could you throw this chance away?"

Melanie forced a smile. "Well, nothing's really me keeping me here. I've been in Oklahoma for too long. I mean, it's time to move on and see the world."

She used to think she could stay in Oklahoma forever, even with all its painful memories—as long as Edwin was here.

But now, there was nothing left but the pain.

If leaving would make things easier for him, she'd go.

She'd been a burden to him for too long.

Still, by the end of the morning, she couldn't bring herself to formally withdraw her project.

It wasn't just a project to her—it was her dream, her hard work, her heart and soul. She couldn't let it go so easily.

That afternoon, Melanie knocked on the director's office door. She tried to explain that her project still had too many flaws and asked if it could be withdrawn and replaced with another.

The director gave her a polite but firm reply: the project had already been submitted, and the CEO himself had approved it. If she wanted to pull it back, she'd have to wait until he returned from his business trip.

As she stepped into the hallway, her phone buzzed a few times.

It was a message from Maurice, along with a photo.

[Melanie!!! OMG! OMG!!!!! Edwin proposed! We're going to look for wedding rings later. Can you help me pick from these designs? Which one do you think is best?]

The attached photo wasn't of rings, though. It showed Maurice nestled in Edwin's arms, gazing up at him like she was about to kiss him.

Two seconds later, the photo was deleted and replaced by photos of diamond rings.

[Oops! Sorry! Wrong pic!]

This wasn't the first time Maurice had "accidentally" sent pictures like this. Every time Melanie would stare at their intimate photos, they left her crying and sitting in silence for hours, struggling to keep the pain at bay.

But this time was different. She had decided to quit loving Edwin, so she could look at such intimate photos now.

She studied the pictures of rings, feeling oddly calm. After carefully considering the options, she picked one and replied with her suggestion.

Less than an hour later, another photo came through. This time, it was Maurice wearing the ring Melanie had suggested.

[Here, does it look beautiful in my finger?]

The diamond was huge and clearly expensive.

Melanie stared at the photo for a moment, her expression still calm. Then she typed a short reply.

[It looks perfect. Congratulations to you both!]

Later that day, her company's private group chat exploded with two pieces of gossip.

The first: [the new girl in Game Development, Melanie, is President Setchfield's sister!]

The second: [President Setchfield has proposed to Mr. Steffensen's daughter!]

The chat lit up like wildfire, with one comment after another scrolling by.

Sitting on the bus, Melanie scrolled through the messages, her heart sinking as she read them.

She had just joined the group that afternoon. She hadn't even updated her display name or introduced herself yet before those two "explosive" messages shoved her into the spotlight.

[No wonder a rookie's project got approved! Nepotism much?]

[Yep! Did you see the budget for that project? No way they'd greenlight it, right? Well, turns out the CEO's her brother, so he doesn't mind investing in such a risky proposal!]

[I was working so hard for a promotion, but what's the point? She's obviously getting the lead role in this. Gosh, can you imagine a rookie bossing around?!]

[Please don't assign her project to my team. I don't want to waste my time making her look good.]

The comments just kept piling up. Different words, same meaning—they were all mocking her, painting her as incompetent, relying entirely on connections to get ahead.

But Melanie didn't bother defending herself. She simply turned off her phone, leaned back in her seat, and stared out the window.

By the time she got home, the sky was dark.

Mrs. Claire, the housekeeper, had dinner ready, but Melanie barely touched her food before heading upstairs.

She tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

The next morning, when she finally came downstairs, Edwin and Maurice were already back. They were sitting at the dining table, waiting for breakfast.

Melanie noticed that her usual seat had been taken by Maurice. But without saying a word, she just sat at the far end of the table.

She didn't want to sit next to Edwin.

Breakfast was unbearable—the couple giggled and chatted like they were the only two people there.

Melanie just kept her head down, quietly sipping her coffee.