Chapter 3

The next few days were a blur of packing and trying to ignore the ache in my chest.

Victoria wasn't content with just taking my apartment and Kevin.

She seemed determined to destroy my reputation too.

I heard whispers from former colleagues.

"Emily had a breakdown."

"She was never cut out for the pressure."

"Kevin said she was becoming erratic."

Lies. All of them. Orchestrated by Victoria, parroted by Kevin.

He was her puppet now, dancing to her tune.

It made me sick.

My father called, his voice concerned.

"Emily, are you alright? I heard about the job."

"I'm fine, Dad." I tried to sound convincing.

"This 'real-world experience' seems to be more brutal than I anticipated."

"It's... educational," I said, a humorless laugh escaping me.

He didn't press. He knew I'd tell him when I was ready.

"Miller Holdings could always use a sharp marketing mind, you know. Whenever you're ready to come home."

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

But I wasn't ready to run home yet. That felt like defeat.

I needed to face this, to get through it on my own terms.

Or at least try.

The flight to Miami was long. I stared out the window, the clouds a shifting landscape of gray.

Just like my life.

The resort Kevin and I had picked was beautiful, luxurious.

A place for happy couples.

Checking in alone felt like wearing a sign: "Recently Dumped and Miserable."

The concierge gave me a sympathetic smile. I hated it.

My room was huge, with a king-sized bed and a balcony overlooking the ocean.

It was meant for two.

I threw my suitcase on the bed and walked out to the balcony.

The sea air was warm, humid.

It didn't make me feel any better.

I spent the first day wandering the resort like a ghost.

Everywhere I looked, there were couples holding hands, laughing.

Each one was a fresh stab of pain.

I tried the pool. More couples.

I tried the beach. Even more.

It was like the universe was mocking me.

That evening, I decided to try the hotel's fanciest restaurant.

Maybe a good meal would lift my spirits.

I put on a dress, did my makeup, tried to look like I wasn't falling apart.

The hostess led me to a small table in the corner.

"Enjoy your dinner, ma'am."

I ordered a glass of wine, then another.

The food was exquisite, but I barely tasted it.

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

"Heard you were fired. Not surprised. You were always a bit too sensitive for the corporate world. - V"

Victoria. How did she even get this number?

My hands trembled as I typed a reply.

"Leave me alone."

Her response was instant.

"Just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your solo trip. Kevin sends his love. ;) "

The winky face felt like a slap.

I threw my phone into my purse, my appetite gone.

She was actively trying to torment me.

I paid the bill and left, her words echoing in my head.

Back in my room, I stared at my reflection.

The woman looking back was a stranger. Pale, haunted.

This wasn't me.

I was Emily Miller. My father didn't raise a victim.

He raised someone resilient, someone strong.

I just had to find that person again.

But tonight, the pain was too raw.

I opened the minibar, grabbed a small bottle of vodka, and drank it straight.

It burned going down, but it numbed the edges of my despair.

One bottle turned into two.

I needed to forget. Just for a little while.