“Leave me alone.” I hung up the phone, my heart heavy with despair.

How did we end up like this? Once inseparable, yet now strangers standing on opposite shores. The woman who had vowed to stand by me through thick and thin chose someone else when I needed her the most.

After arranging my grandmother’s funeral, I returned to my apartment.

The place was eerily silent. As I flicked on the lights, I noticed something by the door—a pair of men’s shoes that weren’t mine.

“You’re back, Yvo. Why didn’t you give me a heads-up?”

Jayden emerged from the bedroom, casually dressed in my pajamas, speaking as if he were the rightful owner of the place.

I cast him a cold glance. Exhausted from the events of the past few days, I didn’t want to waste my breath on him. I collapsed onto the couch, hoping for some peace.

But Jayden sat down in the chair beside me, his smug presence was impossible to ignore.

“Yvo, wipe that scowl off your face. Let me tell you something. this is my home now.”

I turned to him, my voice low and cold. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

“This apartment, the one you worked so hard for? Amanda transferred it to me. Didn’t know that, did you? Tsk, you're indeed pathetic.” He sneered.

His words struck me like a thunderclap. I shot up from the couch and grabbed him by the collar. “What did you just say?” I demanded.

We were on the verge of a physical fight when the front door opened.

Slap!

Amanda’s hand connected with my face. The sting was sharp, but the pain in my heart was far worse.

She rushed past me to Jayden, fussing over him like a protective mother. “Yvo, what’s wrong with you? Haven’t you had enough? First, you target Jayden at every turn, and now you want to hit him?”

She stood in front of him, shielding him from me, her gaze full of anger and disdain as she pointed her finger at my face.

The heartbreak was unbearable, a hundredfold worse than the sting of her slap.

“You gave him the apartment?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Amanda, this was supposed to be our home. I worked so hard to make this a place for us,” I shouted hoarsely, trying to win back a shred of her conscience.

“It’s just a stupid apartment,” she said dismissively. “Jayden didn’t have a place in New York. What’s wrong with giving it to him?”

“Fine. Fine!” The words choked in my throat as I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

Once outside, I dialed my father’s number. “Dad, I’m ready to come back and take over the family business.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end.

“Are you serious this time? No backing out?” he asked in disbelief.

“I won’t. You have my word,” I answered firmly.

The next morning, I sent my resignation letter to Amanda’s email, packed my bags, and booked the earliest flight home.

For eight long years, I had sacrificed everything for her. I had given up the chance to work at my father’s company and a stable future to support her dreams.

She started her own advertising firm, and I became her chief designer. When she struggled to bring in clients, I begged my father to help her, even drinking myself into a hospital bed to secure a major contract.

Yet, all our shared hardships, all the storms we weathered together, were erased the moment Jayden returned.

After breaking up with her, I deleted all her contacts and blocked her everywhere. I didn’t want any lingering ties to her.