Chapter 4

The next morning, Alex sent a text, a single line: "Coffee at 8? My office. We need to talk."

His usual tactic, a superficial attempt at reconciliation, a command disguised as an invitation.

I ignored it.

I had to go to the office one last time, to officially resign, to hand things over to Mark, my direct manager. He was a decent guy, always supportive, but powerless against the whims of Alex and Jessica.

When I arrived, Mark looked somber.

"Sarah, I have some news. About the Senior Marketing Manager position."

The promotion Alex had dangled in front of me for years, the one he'd said was the prerequisite for our relationship ever becoming public. "Once you get that promotion, Sarah, we can tell everyone. It will look better."

"They gave it to someone else, didn't they?" I said, a hollow feeling in my stomach. It didn't even hurt anymore, just confirmed everything.

Mark nodded, his expression pained. "To Amanda from sales. Jessica pushed it through. I argued, Sarah, I told them you were the most qualified, that you've earned it ten times over."

"It's okay, Mark," I said, offering him a small smile. "It doesn't matter anymore."

I handed him my resignation letter.

He looked at it, then at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "Sarah... after ten years?"

"It's time, Mark," I said. "It's long past time."

He understood. He'd seen glimpses of the toxicity, the way Jessica undermined me, the way Alex treated me like a disposable asset.

I thought back to the early days with Alex, a brief, almost forgotten period when things felt different.

He'd pursued me, charmed me, made me feel like the only woman in the world. We'd had stolen moments, laughter, a connection I thought was real.

But it had faded so quickly, replaced by his ambition, his emotional unavailability, and then, Jessica's insidious presence.

She'd become indispensable to him, her ruthlessness a perfect match for his own.

I remembered trying to talk to him about it, about us, about the future he'd vaguely promised.

"Not now, Sarah," he'd always say, his eyes on his phone, on his next billion-dollar deal. "Jessica needs me for this meeting, it's crucial."

He always prioritized her, her schedule, her needs. I was an afterthought, a convenience.

The promotion, the public relationship, it was all a lie, a way to keep me tethered to him.

A wave of bitterness washed over me, a decade of my life, my career, stunted, all for a man who saw me as nothing more than a placeholder.

I needed a moment, some air. I excused myself and headed to the restroom.