Chapter 3

So, I was absolutely sure he wouldn't let me go to HR.

Sure enough, he loosened his tie, glaring at me as he spat out through his teeth:

"Fine. Don't regret this!"

"I will personally oversee Chloe's upcoming projects. Don't think this company can't run without you!"

"You have one month to hand over all your work to Director Chloe. After that, I won't stop you."

He turned and stormed back into the General Manager's office before I could reply.

Before the door slammed shut, the last thing I saw was him gently draping a blanket over Chloe, who was fast asleep on his office couch.

My stomach churned. Even though I tried to act like I didn't care, I couldn't ignore the dull ache in my gut.

But that didn't stop me from grabbing my phone and sending a text to a contact:

"I'll resign in a month. Let's meet to discuss the package."

It was late when I took two subway transfers and finally made it home. Ethan wasn't back yet.

Usually, he drove and I took the subway, so he was always home before me.

I sat on the couch in the dark, quietly looking around the apartment we had lived in for five years.

Back when we bought this place, Ethan wasn't the General Manager yet. We were just ordinary designers.

We saved every penny for a long time to afford the down payment on this condo.

Even though it was far from downtown and had a terrible layout, I felt it was all worth it because it gave me a sense of belonging.

But sitting here tonight, for some reason, it felt incredibly foreign.

At 10:00 PM, Ethan walked through the door holding a cake box.

I was slightly stunned.

We didn't have the habit of celebrating anniversaries.

Maybe today's fight made him feel uneasy, and he wanted to use this to smooth things over.

Seeing me on the couch, he looked surprised. "You're still awake?"

I stood up and walked over. But my hand froze in mid-air.

Half of the cake was gone. The heart-shaped center had been scooped out and eaten.

I stared at it for a few seconds, making sure it wasn't just some weird artistic design.

He tossed the box onto the dining table carelessly.

"I bought it to celebrate Chloe's promotion, but she only took a few bites and said she was worried about the calories."

"I remembered you said you wanted cake the other day, so I brought the rest back for you."

My throat felt like it was blocked by a rock. I couldn't make a sound.

Years ago, to pay off the mortgage, I never bought any nice clothes. I wore hand-me-downs from my older sister.

When I went to the grocery store, I only bought the bruised, discounted vegetables.

But from the day we finally paid off the house, I told him: I, Harper, will never take anyone's leftovers again.

And now, he wanted me to eat a leftover cake that he had bought for another woman.

As the sound of the shower started running in the bathroom, I unlocked my phone and began drafting a divorce agreement.

The next morning, Ethan and I stood at the elevator door together.

I looked at him, confused. This wasn't his usual time to leave.

He was smiling, texting on his phone, and said casually, "Chloe is having her period today and isn't feeling well. I'm going to pick her up."

"If I remember correctly, her apartment is a forty-minute detour, right?"

"It's just forty minutes. Just a press on the gas pedal."

The elevator mirror reflected our faces.

One was pale and exhausted, even with full makeup. The other was glowing, staring happily at his screen.

My mind drifted back to a rainy day when I was shopping with my friend. It was pouring, and I called him to pick me up from the subway station.

He had said, "Just Uber back. Driving out in this weather is too much trouble."

A ten-minute drive was "too much trouble," but forty minutes was just "a press on the gas pedal."

When the elevator reached the lobby, he hesitated for a second. "Do you... want a ride?"

I shook my head and stepped out.

He looked relieved as he pressed the close button.