Chapter 2

As I reached the underground parking garage, my phone rang. It was the HR recruiter who had contacted me before.

“Ms. Chloe, about the Marketing Director position at that listed company we discussed, they’re willing to increase your salary by another twenty percent. Could you reconsider?”

This salary was top-tier in the industry.

“I accept,” my voice was steady. “Additionally, I’ll bring a multi-million-dollar deal with me. Please help me secure the corresponding commission.”

The HR on the other end almost shrieked with excitement: “Don’t worry! We’ll make sure everything is perfectly arranged for you!”

I hung up, got into my car, and my finger slid over Nelson’s name in my WhatsApp contacts. I sent him a message: “Hold off on signing the contract for now. Wait for my update.”

Dennis said the company was struggling and told me not to make things worse.

But in these eight years, which company crisis hadn’t I fought tooth and nail to overcome?

This collaboration with the Nelson Group was something I had swallowed my pride and humbly begged Nelson for three times to get.

It was a deal that could save Dennis’s company.

The car exited the underground parking lot, and the scenery outside flashed past.

Just like my eight years with Dennis, gone in the blink of an eye.

I first saw Dennis outside my university dorm.

He was my best friend Mansoor’s older brother, picking her up for summer break. He stood under a tree in a white shirt, a small mole at the corner of his eye when he smiled.

I fell for him at first sight.

Later, at our graduation party, we both drank too much and ended up sleeping together.

I naturally joined his startup, starting as an entry-level intern.

At first, he said we couldn’t go public because he was afraid people would say I got ahead through connections. I waited.

After I used my own abilities to rise to the top position in the marketing department, he said he was afraid it would affect my friendship with Mansoor. I still waited.

I always thought he would give me a title eventually.

It wasn't until I saw the marriage certificate on Anna’s Instagram that I finally woke up.

He wasn’t unwilling to get married; he just wasn’t willing to marry me.

I drove back to the apartment Dennis and I had shared for five years.

Leaving the company would take a few days to process, so I decided to pack my things and move out first.

I pulled out a suitcase and opened the closet; his clothes took up most of the space.

I used to tell him his style was too dull and asked him to try bright hoodies. He’d say he was the boss and needed to be serious.

But now, in the most prominent spot in the closet, hung several bright, trendy hoodies.

It wasn't that he wasn't willing to change; he just wasn't willing to change for me.

I folded my clothes one by one into the suitcase when I suddenly heard the lock turn behind me.

Dennis walked in. He saw my open suitcase and frowned.

“Anna and I really have nothing going on. Can you please stop this?”

He walked over, intending to take my hand.

“Getting married was too rash of me. I’ll go to the city hall with her this afternoon to get divorced.

Once the contract with the Nelson Group is signed and the company is stable, we’ll go public, okay?”

I opened my mouth, about to say, “Let’s break up.”

He suddenly interrupted me, glancing around the room:

“Oh, right, where did you put the keys to the Flower Gardens apartment?”

“In the bottom drawer of the nightstand,” I paused, then still asked, “Are you selling the apartment to cover the cash flow gap?”

He paused, then smiled, his tone very casual.

“Selling? No. It’s just sitting empty. Anna’s lease is up, so I told her she could move in there for now.”

My heart felt like it was severely blocked by something, aching dully.

The Flower Gardens apartment was the one he said he bought for us as our wedding home last year for my birthday.

Now he was letting another woman live in it.

He seemed not to notice my pale face and spoke again:

“Oh, and the Nelson Group contract, once you’re done with it, just hand it over to Anna. Her probation period is almost up, and this deal will help her get permanent employment.

Don’t worry, I’ll still give you the full commission.”

Before I could speak, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, answered immediately, his voice impossibly soft.

“Mmm, I’ll send you the address. Just have the moving company go straight there…”

He walked out the door while talking on the phone, not even sparing me a glance.

The door clicked shut.

I stood in the empty living room and suddenly let out a laugh.

Turns out, my eight years of youth meant less to him than an intern who had only been there for three months.