Chapter 2

Whenever Chloe drank too much at business dinners, I was the one waiting up with warm soup.

Every year on her birthday, I spent a whole month preparing her gifts.

She said she was too busy with her career to think about marriage, and I said okay, I’ll wait.

I waited and waited, and this was where waiting led me.

At two in the morning, the front door lock beeped.

Chloe was back.

I opened my eyes. She slipped off her heels and stepped into the living room.

Under the faint yellow glow of the foyer light, I instantly spotted the fresh red mark on her neck.

A hickey.

She used to never let anyone leave marks where people could see, claiming it looked unprofessional.

I guess she was truly over the moon tonight.

She paused in her tracks when she saw me sitting on the sofa.

She didn't come over to hug me like she usually did, nor did she explain why she was home so late.

She walked over to the armchair farthest away from me, sat down, and stayed silent for a while.

"Ethan."

She finally spoke, her voice slightly raspy.

"We’ve been together for too long."

I looked at her, saying nothing.

"We’re too familiar. It feels like family now. We’re just not suited for marriage anymore."

She kept her head down, carefully choosing her words.

"Bowen is different. Being around him makes me want to get married. He makes me want to settle down."

Bowen. The intern.

I repeated the name silently in my head.

"I know this is on me. I’ll make it up to you."

She finally looked up at me.

"I’ll sign the deed to this villa over to you, plus five million in cash. It’ll be enough for you to live comfortably."

She paused for a second.

"As for the company, submit your resignation. It’ll be awkward for Bowen to see you around."

When she finished, I simply nodded.

"Deal."

She froze, clearly caught off guard by how readily I agreed.

"You agree? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

I stood up and looked down at her.

"Pack your things and move out right now."

She frowned.

"Right now?"

"Yes. Tonight."

My tone was utterly flat.

"Since this house is mine now, you leave."

She stared at me for a few seconds before nodding.

"Fine. I’ll go upstairs and pack."

She headed upstairs. I stood rooted to the spot.

A few minutes later, the sounds of closets opening and drawers sliding shut echoed from above.

I walked out onto the balcony, gazing into the pitch-black night. My chest felt hollow.

It wasn't heartbreak anymore; it was an emptiness left behind after everything had been drained out of me.

When the wind blew, I felt weightless.

About half an hour later, Chloe walked down carrying two suitcases.

She stopped at the foyer, looked back at me, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something.

I didn’t look back.

The heavy front door clicked shut. The roar of her car engine faded into the distance.

Standing in the quiet living room, I suddenly let out a faint laugh.

Ten years, packed into two bags and driven away.

Clean and efficient.