At NovaFlight Dynamics, I was "the guy who couldn't get his fiancée to the altar." Alex Miller. My fiancée, Jessica Thorne, a co-founder, had canceled our wedding thirty-two times. I poured my genius into NovaFlight' s critical satellite launch, always putting her first, even as the 33rd date loomed.
She canceled again, for Leo Maxwell, a junior engineer. That night, at the pre-launch party, Jessica, radiant, openly fed Leo a canapé. He flashed a new luxury smartwatch, mirroring hers. On our seven-year anniversary, Leo's Instagram showed them clinking champagne glasses: "Celebrating a successful partnership!"
I resigned, publicly terminating our engagement. Jessica, smelling of Leo' s cologne, abandoned me for his 'crisis.' My engagement ring? Tossed aside. I threw it in the trash. At the office, Leo 'accidentally' destroyed my personal research laptop with corrosive solvent. Jessica witnessed it, then shrieked, blaming me and demanding I credit Leo for my groundbreaking designs.
My very dignity was systematically dismantled. My dedication, my love, my future-all casually destroyed. The future she spoke of was a cruel, hollow joke.
A dark government vehicle waited. I powered down my old phone as her casual 'raincheck' text buzzed one last time. I stepped into the car without a single look back. This wasn't an end; it was finally, unequivocally, my beginning.