Chapter 3

The next morning, I showed up at the office as usual.

There were still personal things I needed to clear out.

The moment I stepped through the main doors, I saw Bowen sitting behind the reception counter.

He was wearing a crisp white designer tee today, his hair styled casually, looking every bit the bright, radiant golden boy.

Catching sight of me, he deliberately raised his left hand.

The luxury watch around his wrist caught the fluorescent lights with a blinding glint.

I kept my expression neutral and kept walking. But he slipped out from behind the counter and stepped directly into my path.

"Morning, Ethan."

He smiled, holding his wrist up and flaunting it right in front of my face.

"Nice, isn't it? Chloe picked it out for me."

He tilted his head, watching me playfully.

"You were with her for ten years. Did she ever buy you a watch like this?"

I glanced down at the watch.

"I have dozens of them. All bought by her."

I smiled faintly.

"Every single one costs more than that piece. But I only wear them to match my outfits. Never really thought of them as something worth bragging about."

His smile froze.

I stepped around him and walked straight to my office desk.

I opened my cabinets and began clearing out my things.

There wasn’t much to pack. Very few personal items.

I put them into a cardboard box.

As I packed, Bowen drifted over again, hovering beside me.

"Aren't those company property? You can't just take whatever you want."

He pointed at a binder inside the box.

I pulled it out and flipped it open in front of him.

"These are my personal working notes. My own property."

He sneered.

I continued packing, pulling a few knickknacks out of the box and leaving them on the desk.

"You’re right, though. I don’t need to take these with me."

I looked up at him.

"I was going to toss them in the dumpster outside so no one here would have to deal with the trash."

His expression changed.

"What did you say?"

"I said, these worthless items were meant for the garbage."

I shoved the pile right toward his hands.

"Since you're so invested, why don't you throw them out for me?"

He gritted his teeth, about to snap back, when footsteps clicked behind us.

Chloe walked in.

Seeing me holding the moving box, and seeing Bowen’s stormy face, she frowned.

"Bowen, give us a minute outside."

Bowen parted his lips in protest, clearly unhappy, but seeing Chloe’s stern expression, he turned on his heel and walked off.

Not before throwing me a venomous glare.

Chloe walked up to me and reached for the box.

"Let me help you pack."

I didn't stop her. I leaned against the desk and watched her hands move.

She opened my bottom drawer, where a stack of folders sat in neat order.

She pulled one out, flipped through it, and suddenly froze.

Tucked inside was a photograph taken the first year we got together.

In the photo, I was nineteen, wearing a faded mechanic's jumpsuit, grinning candidly at the lens.

She stared at the picture for a very long time.

"Ethan."

Her voice dropped low.

"When I loved you... I really, truly loved you."

I listened quietly.

"I used to believe we’d get married too."

She placed the photo carefully back into the box.

"But after meeting Bowen, I realized..."

She paused, unable to finish the sentence.

"You realized what?"

I finished it for her.

"You realized the person you want isn't me anymore. It’s him."

She stayed silent, offering no denial.

I lifted the cardboard box into my arms.

"Chloe, honestly, you don't need to explain."

I looked into her eyes, my mind feeling more tranquil than it had ever been.

"Because I don't love you anymore, either."