When my boyfriend Ryan returned from his business trip with his first love Chloe, he immediately noticed something different about me. He pulled strings to help Chloe steal my project, but instead of storming off like I would’ve before, I threw myself into assisting her—even drafting proposals with enthusiasm. He sabotaged my hard-earned designs to secure Chloe the year-end bonus, yet I didn’t bother defending myself. I took full responsibility and let him mete out whatever punishment he saw fit. He even fast-tracked Chloe’s promotion to General Manager, and still I didn’t get upset. I voluntarily signed over all my shares, letting Ryan do with them as he pleased. Ryan smiled and called me “a good girl,” promising a promotion and—for the first time ever—proposing marriage. But he seemed to have forgotten that during our silent standoff, he’d already signed my resignation papers. And I’d already ended our relationship. From that moment on, we were thoroughly finished—no loose ends, no lingering connections.
“This project proposal is urgent. Have it on my desk by EOD.” Ryan’s voice was icy as he dumped a thick stack of files on my desk, turning to leave without another word. As soon as he rounded the corner, my coworkers swarmed around me, buzzing with commentary. “Aren’t these Chloe’s assignments?” “Her projects are always the worst—impossible deadlines, zero resources. You won’t finish by tonight, not even close.” “Ryan’s so obvious about playing favorites. She doesn’t even do her own work anymore; he just palms it off on everyone else.” They circled me, their voices carefully calibrated to carry. I knew better than to mistake this for solidarity—they were just here for the show. The whole office knew Ryan, our GM, was my boyfriend—but that didn’t stop him from blatantly playing favorites with my rival, Chloe. He’d not only fast-tracked her promotion to Project Director, but also handed her a million-dollar account I’d spent two months securing and developing, one that was days from completion. When I objected, Ryan called for a team vote on who should lead the project. My coworkers promised support to my face, then unanimously voted for Chloe. Later they claimed Ryan had pressured them, urging me to “cut the new girl some slack.” This wasn’t the first time. My colleagues kept up their pretend defense, but instead of marching to Ryan’s office like I used to, I simply took the files and got to work. My calmness clearly surprised them—their eyes widened, but they clammed up fast when Ryan appeared. Suddenly everyone had urgent work at their desks. Ryan was in an uncharacteristically good mood. He ignored the awkward silence and just told me to have the proposal on his desk by end of day. I nodded, and he left without a second glance. His hair was styled to perfection, suit crisply pressed—no prizes for guessing he was meeting Chloe. This had been our dynamic for years. It started when I found their late-night Snapchats. I asked a simple question, and Ryan—furious at my “insecurity”—hired Chloe on the spot as some kind of twisted payback. To punish me for questioning him, he showered her with opportunities, brought her to every corporate event, and even praised her publicly at company dinners. If I got upset, he’d stonewall me. If I apologized, he’d summon coworkers to lecture me about being “too demanding.” Everyone agreed I was the unreasonable one. I used to lie awake wondering if I was really that small-minded. But then I found out Chloe was his college sweetheart. Suddenly it clicked—all that “learning to compromise” talk was just cover for him to rekindle his old flame. Even without that first fight, he would’ve found another way to bring her into our lives. After their last business trip together, something shifted. They still did the same things—dinners, wine tastings, art shows—but there was a new tension between them. But for once, I didn’t care. Five years together, and I was finally done. This charade had gone on long enough. By the time I finished the proposal, I was the only one left in the office. Scrolling through Instagram, I found Chloe had posted again. The photo showed an upscale French bistro, candlelight casting a romantic glow over their table. Ryan was cutting Chloe’s steak for her, looking absurdly chivalrous. Caption: “When your CEO personally cuts your steak… tastes extra delicious.” The comments were full of coworkers gushing about what a “cute couple” they made. Chloe replied to one, bragging that Ryan—who never drinks—shared half a bottle of wine with her to celebrate “her” project win. The comment section blew up with wedding rumors. Ryan didn’t shut it down—just commented “My pleasure.” When someone asked when the wedding would be, he left ellipsis and Chloe responded with a blushing emoji. I didn’t spiral like I used to—no angry texts, no confrontations, no tears. I just texted Ryan the proposal was done, dropped the file on his desk, and drove home. When I got home, my phone pinged with his reply. “Alice, it’s Chloe! Thanks for crunching on the proposal—let me take you to dinner sometime as a thank you!” Ryan had always been obsessive about his phone privacy—got mad if I even borrowed it to check the time. Now he was letting Chloe reply to his messages? I couldn’t help a bitter laugh. Different priorities, different treatment. Plain and simple. But for once, my chest didn’t tighten. What used to feel like the end of the world now just felt… trivial. Feelings fade, but hard work? That always pays off. I pulled up my calendar. While Ryan and Chloe were gallivanting on their “business trip,” I’d submitted my resignation. As expected, he didn’t even read it before signing—too busy with her. Three more days of handover, and I’d be free. After a moment’s thought, I dialed Professor Miller, my old mentor from the research institute. Post-grad, I’d landed a dream role there with a killer salary. But when Ryan said he needed help launching his startup, I quit without hesitation. My mentor begged me to reconsider, but I was dead set on helping him build from the ground up. Now? I couldn’t believe how naive I’d been. He answered on the second ring. I braced for an earful, but instead he sighed, “I heard what happened. Been waiting for your call.” “You sure about this, kiddo?” “Absolutely. My resignation’s already finalized.” “Resignation? What resignation?” A shocked voice cut through the room. I turned to find Ryan standing in the doorway.
I glanced at my phone—Professor Miller had hung up. I locked the screen calmly. “Just a friend. They’re thinking about quitting their job.” Ryan frowned, eyes narrowing. “What friend discusses that at this hour?” Before I could answer, his phone chimed. Chloe had texted—she’d found a stray cat and bought it food. A smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it. Noticing me watching, he schooled his expression. “Tell your friend to stop being so negative. Focus on work instead.” His tone was frosty—nothing like the warmth he used with Chloe. I didn’t argue or remind him the project was technically Chloe’s now. Ryan brushed past me, grinning as he typed replies on his way to the bedroom. Minutes later, his laughter boomed from the bedroom. He’d forgotten all about the years I’d worked beside him, sacrificing my social life to build his company. But I didn’t care—it saved me the energy of fighting. I retreated to my makeshift study—the converted storage room—and pulled out my research materials. The institute’s research focus had shifted in five years. Even with my mentor’s support, I needed to get up to speed fast. Luckily, the fundamentals stuck—I’d catch up quickly. “Reading academic journals now?” Ryan appeared in the doorway as I focused on my research. He snatched the journal from my hands, flipped through it dismissively, and tossed it back on the desk. “Why bother with this stuff? You don’t actually get any of it, do you?” “Just curious.” I stacked the papers neatly, keeping my voice neutral. “Did you need something?” My calmness seemed to throw him off. He hesitated, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah, actually. Chloe just wrapped that big project, so I’m promoting her to set an example. What do you think?” He phrased it as a question, but his eyes made it clear it was a done deal. I nodded. “Fine by me.” “But I need to show consequences too, or the team won’t respect me. You haven’t led a project in a while, so I’m moving you to an entry-level role temporarily. Don’t worry, you’ll bounce back. As my girlfriend, you get why this is necessary, right?” I bit back a laugh. He still hadn’t noticed my resignation. He tracked Chloe’s every mood swing and coffee order, but couldn’t remember signing my resignation papers—papers he’d personally approved. Priorities made crystal clear. My silence must have looked like resistance because his tone turned sharp. “Agree or not, it’s happening. I already finalized the paperwork—Chloe’s moving into your office Monday. Either take the demotion or walk, but with the IPO coming, you’d be an idiot to quit now.” He spoke with absolute certainty that I’d stay. This routine was familiar—Chloe would whisper something, I’d get demoted, and I’d grit my teeth through it. He figured with the IPO looming, I’d never walk away now. I managed a tight smile. “I didn’t say I was against it.” “Good.” Ryan visibly relaxed. In his world, silence always meant consent. He started to leave, then paused like he’d just remembered an afterthought. “Hey, where’d our photo go? The one that used to be on your desk?” I almost laughed. Once, our pictures were everywhere—in frames on every surface, even my wallet. I’d needed the constant reminder that despite everything, he supposedly loved me. Now, after learning about his history with Chloe? Those photos just looked like evidence of my own delusion. I kept it simple. “The frame broke, so I took it down.” “Typical. You’re always breaking things.” Ryan grimaced, scanning the floor. “Clean up any glass properly—don’t want anyone stepping on it.” He left without another word. Watching him go, I laughed bitterly. Of course he wasn’t worried about me—he meant Chloe. This was our apartment, but he’d brought her here so many times I’d lost count. First he snuck her in, then when I caught them, he called it a “work emergency” and called me irrational. After that, he paraded her through like he was punishing me. For months I spiraled, obsessing over what I was doing wrong. Now I realize—if I’d spent that energy on my career instead of his ego? I could’ve had a PhD by now. The next morning, Ryan made the announcement: Chloe’s promotion and my demotion, all in one breath. Colleagues shot me sympathetic glances as they congratulated Chloe, clearly expecting a scene. But I just kept working like nothing was happening. While Ryan took Chloe out for celebratory dinners, I was filling out visa applications. While they hit up amusement parks, I was packing my life into one suitcase. While they played couple at industry events, I was wrapping up my handover documents… Two days later, my last day, I headed to HR to finalize exit paperwork. “Ryan wants to see you before you go—head up to the GM’s office,” the HR rep mumbled, barely looking up. I almost said no. But tonight was my flight. If he stayed out with Chloe again, this might be our last chance to talk. Five years deserved some kind of closure, right? I took the elevator up. Through the glass wall, I could see them on the couch—Chloe with her head in Ryan’s lap, looking way too comfortable.
I froze. I was about to backtrack when Chloe spotted me. She yelped and scrambled upright. “Alice! What are you doing here?” Ryan’s face tightened. He straightened his jacket like he’d been caught doing something wrong, then snapped, “Who let you up here? I told you not to come to the executive floor unannounced!” Funny—I remembered when that rule was first made: “Nobody comes upstairs without permission… except Alice.” I used to think it was my special privilege. Now? It was just his way of keeping me out while he played house with Chloe. But I didn’t care anymore. Too exhausted for drama, I just stated the facts. “HR said you asked for me.” Ryan snorted coldly and strode up to the desk, pressing the intercom. Within less than two minutes, the HR manager hurried upstairs. “Did you tell Alice I wanted to see her?” Ryan’s voice was icy. The manager sized up the room—Ryan’s scowl, Chloe’s innocent act—and visibly panicked. “I… I don’t recall, sir.” “Typical.” Ryan’s smirk was triumphant as he turned on me. “Real mature, Alice. Sneaking up here like some stalker. If you’re that desperate for attention, I can install cameras in my office for you.” There was no winning this argument. “Ryan, don’t be so harsh.” Chloe laid a hand on his arm, batting her lashes at me. “Alice was just worried about you. I had a migraine earlier, and Ryan was letting me rest my head. We’re both just focused on the company.” I saw right through her fake concern. HR would never contradict the boss’s new favorite—not when Chloe was calling the shots now. Even if she did, Ryan wouldn’t believe her. I stayed quiet, but Ryan was just getting started. “Save it. Personal relationships stay out of the office! Alice violated protocol—cut her pay by half and revoke this month’s bonus.” The HR manager tried to interject. “Mr. Ryan, Alice already—” Ryan cut her off with a glare. “Save the excuses. Just do it.” The manager scurried out, clearly relieved to escape. I turned to leave too, but Ryan stopped me. His tone softened, taking on that patronizing tone he used when he thought he was being reasonable. “Look, I’m not picking on you. Rules are rules. If I let this slide, everyone will think they can break protocol.” Chloe chimed in, sweet as poison. “Exactly, Alice. Next time you’re unsure about something, just ask Ryan… or me.” Ryan nodded approvingly. “Chloe gets it—she’s all about the company. You should take notes. Instead of overanalyzing everything, why can’t you be more like her?” Like her? Like how she steals credit and plays the victim? I bit back the retort. My silence must have looked like submission. Ryan stepped closer, adjusting my collar like I was a child. “I get it, you’re upset. But you’ve been better lately. Be good, and we’ll go pick out wedding venues next week. Not that marriage changes anything—” “I know why you’re making such a fuss. But you’ve been much more cooperative since you came back. As a reward, we’ll go take wedding photos tomorrow and settle the marriage. But don’t get ahead of yourself; marriage is just…” “Wedding?” I laughed, stepping back from his touch. I pulled the resignation letter from my bag and held it out. “We broke up, remember?” “And I quit. Effective immediately.” “From now on, we’re strangers.”
Chloe’s eyes flickered with triumph before she schooled her features into concern. “Alice, that’s so unnecessary. You two have been through so much…” “Chloe, leave us.” Ryan’s voice was dangerously low. Chloe bit her lip, shooting me a smug glance before murmuring, “Just talk it out, you two,” and slipping out. The door clicked shut. Ryan’s stare turned icy. “Cut the crap, Alice. I just offered to marry you, and you’re still pulling this nonsense?” “Take it back. I’m not accepting this resignation. Tear it up, and we’ll pretend you didn’t have this little meltdown.” I almost felt sorry for him—so used to getting his way that he couldn’t fathom me walking away. All those years I’d swallowed my pride to keep the peace, thinking patience would fix us. Turns out I’d just trained him to expect my surrender. He remembered Chloe’s coffee order but couldn’t recall signing my resignation papers last week. I tapped the paper. “Check the signature. You signed it yourself. HR processed everything—today’s my last day.” Ryan glanced at it dismissively, then did a double-take. His face paled slightly. “You faked this.” His voice cracked. “Your handwriting, your desk, your pen. Ring any bells?” “That’s impossible!” He slammed his fist on the desk. “You could go to jail for this!” “Impossible! How could I sign this?!” He raised his voice. “Forging a signature is illegal; I can call the police!” He grabbed his phone, ready to dial—his usual power move. It always worked before. He thought I’d panic about the scandal, about losing him. But he was wrong. I had nothing left to lose. “Be my guest. Call the cops.” My voice stayed steady. “You really don’t care?” “Why would I?” Ryan’s jaw tightened. He studied the paper, and I helpfully added, “You signed it during your trip to Singapore. Remember? The day Chloe ‘accidentally’ spilled wine on your laptop?” His shoulders went rigid. Recognition dawned, draining the color from his face. “That? I was distracted! I didn’t read it! It doesn’t count!” “Says who? HR has it on file. Your signature’s right there.” “Says me!” He loomed over me, trying to intimidate. I pulled out my phone and unlocked it. “Then we’ll let the police decide.”
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