The next few days were a blur of calculated efficiency. I packed my life into a few boxes, separating the scientific journals that defined my career from the forgotten keepsakes that marked a relationship now defunct. Each item was a ghost, a whisper of a past I was determined to bury.

The real estate agent was surprisingly swift. "The market is hot for properties near the institute, Dr. Cleveland. Especially one so meticulously maintained."

Meticulously maintained by me, I thought, the words tasting like ash. The house, full of my design choices, my plants, my silent hopes, was quickly sold. I didn't even look back as the new owners signed the papers. It was just a building, devoid of the warmth I had tried so hard to infuse it with. What use was a meticulously maintained home if the person you built it for never truly lived in it?

Back at the institute, I moved through the labs like a phantom. My work was impeccable, my demeanor professional. No one dared ask about the sudden cancellation of the wedding, or Alston's increasingly vacant expression. They just whispered.

His messages still came, sporadic and analytical. "Ellie, I've misplaced the analysis of the polymer's tensile strength from last quarter. Do you recall where you filed it?"

I read them, then deleted them. My fingers, once so eager to respond, were now still. It was a strange kind of freedom, this silence.

I remembered the early days, how I would anticipate his needs, almost before he voiced them. The carefully prepared coffee, the obscure reference books already open on his desk. His muttered thanks, usually accompanied by an impenetrable gaze, had felt like gold then. Now, they felt like dust.

He had never once asked if I was tired, if I had eaten, if the late nights were getting to me. He simply expected my presence, my competence, my unwavering support. I was a well-calibrated instrument in his grand scientific symphony.

The annual institute banquet was mandatory. I tried to blend into the periphery, a wallflower in a room full of blossoming egos. But the universe, it seemed, had other plans for my quiet exit.

Alston arrived, a reluctant star, with Kiara Gamble, radiant and audacious, clinging to his arm. She wore a dress the color of champagne, effervescent, just like her. Alston, for his part, looked marginally less uncomfortable than usual. His hand, so rarely extended to me, rested almost casually on her lower back.

A wave of guests parted for them as they made their way to the head table. The murmurs were not of science tonight, but of speculation. The new power couple. So much more vibrant than... They didn't need to finish the sentence. I knew who they meant.

Kiara, with a dazzling smile, addressed the crowd. "It's so wonderful to finally be here, at the heart of innovation! And I must say, Dr. Cleveland's meticulous organizational skills have made my transition incredibly smooth. All those perfectly labeled files, the streamlined protocols... she's truly set a high bar." Her eyes, bright and knowing, found mine across the room. It wasn't praise. It was a public staking of claim. A subtle but brutal reminder of my former role.

A knot tightened in my chest. My hands clenched at my sides. But then, a strange calm settled over me. It's over, Ellie. Let it go.

I lifted my glass, meeting her gaze with a cool, detached look. "I'm glad my groundwork proved useful, Dr. Gamble. It's always satisfying to see one's efforts contribute to the greater good." My voice was even, betraying nothing.

Alston, standing beside Kiara, paused mid-sip of his water. His eyes, for a fleeting moment, landed on me. A flicker of surprise. He hadn't expected me to speak, let alone to deliver such a polite, yet pointed, parry. He was used to my silence, my accommodating nature.

I realized then that he hadn't just taken me for granted; he had rendered me invisible. He saw a function, not a person. My feelings, my presence, were just part of the background hum of his existence.

The banquet wound down. I was halfway to the exit, eager to disappear into the night, when a hand gripped my arm. Not gently.

"Ellie." His voice was low, laced with a familiar, demanding cadence. "We need to talk."

I pulled my arm free. "There's nothing left to discuss, Alston."

"What is going on with you?" he pressed, his confusion palpable. "This isn't like you. The house, the transfer, the wedding... you're behaving irrationally."

I turned, finally facing him fully. My gaze met his, unwavering. "Irrational? Or perhaps, for the first time, rationally." I took a deep breath, the words I'd rehearsed a hundred times in my head now spilling out, cold and clear. "Alston Scott. Our engagement is officially terminated. And I'm leaving this institute for good."

Chapter 2

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