Chapter 3

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.