Chapter 3 Fay Wolfgang

"The hardest goodbyes are the ones you never get to say. Just silence... and the weight of what could've been."

I stared at the screen until the words blurred.

Numbers, charts, slides that none of it made sense today.

Not because I didn't understand it, but because my mind had made the executive decision to check out.

It was almost noon and I hadn't touched a thing. A presentation deadline blinked at me from the corner of my monitor like a quiet threat, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not today.

The message from earlier still sat unread.

I didn't have to open it to know who it was from.

Adam.

I could feel his presence through the phone, like an echo I couldn't shake.

I picked it up. Typed my passcode. Hovered over the notification.

And pressed delete.

I didn't need to hear his voice in text form. I already knew what it would say. Something safe. Something polite. Something painfully detached, just like him.

A knock on the glass wall to my office snapped me back into the present.

Maggie didn't wait for an invitation. She never did. She pushed the door open with her hip, holding two coffees and one perfectly arched brow aimed right at me.

"You're sulking. It's unattractive," she said, striding in like she owned the building.

"I'm working," I lied, clicking my tablet screen as if it'd make me look busier.

She plopped the coffee on my desk and sat across from me, legs crossed neatly. "You've been staring at the same slide for twenty minutes. The only thing you're working on is developing early-onset rage."

I smiled faintly. Maggie had always been like this. Sharp as a knife. Petite, blunt, and ferociously loyal.

She was my best friend. The only person who could call me out and get away with it.

"I'm fine," I said coolly.

"Liar." She took a sip of her coffee and narrowed her eyes. "You're thinking about him."

Of course I was.

I hated that I was.

Adam Steel.

God, even the name sounded like a scar.

Clean. Strong. And impossible to forget.

I looked down at my coffee, watching the steam rise. "I shouldn't have cared."

"Bullshit," Maggie snapped. "You cared because you're human. You cared because you let him in. You're not the one who screwed up."

I didn't respond.

The truth? I blamed myself.

Because I never said anything.

Years of friendship. Late-night calls. Corporate projects we built together. Laughter over scotch. Sparring in meetings with glances only we understood. It was always almost something. And I ruined it by doing the one thing I swore I never would.

I let it matter.

I let him matter.

He was always good to me. Respectful. Kind. The kind of man who saw you and listened. And somewhere between friendship and fire, I fell. Quietly. Stupidly.

But I didn't act on it.

I couldn't.

I was afraid to lose what we had.

So instead, I watched him.

Watched him go on dates. Talk about other women. Smile for someone else.

And every time he did, it chipped something inside me.

But I stayed.

I smiled.

I let him call me "Wolfie" and ask for my opinion on things I didn't want to hear about.

And when I finally got the courage to say something... to tell him maybe there could be something more between us, he destroyed it.

He told me he got her pregnant.

Her.

The woman who clung to him like a damn shadow.

The one who always watched me, like she knew.

Maybe she did.

And now?

He was engaged.

To the woman who wore deception like perfume.

And I was expected to smile at the engagement party and pretend I was happy for him.

Because his family insisted.

Because I was "family," too.

Because I was Alexander Wolfgang's baby sister, and that meant loyalty above all else.

It felt like punishment.

Like showing up to your own funeral and being asked to decorate.

"I should call in sick," I muttered.

Maggie gave me a long, slow blink. "You've used that excuse twice this year. And once, it was because you had a cracked heel."

"It was Louboutin," I defended weakly.

She rolled her eyes. "That excuse won't work today. His mother called me to make sure you're attending."

I grimaced. "She didn't."

"She did. And I quote, 'Please make sure Fay is there. She's always been special to Adam.'" Maggie's tone turned mocking and bitter.

I hated that part the most.

The closeness I had with the Steel family.

The way his mother hugged me tighter than she hugged her own daughter-in-law to be.

The way Christopher once told me I was the only one who softened Adam's rough edges.

And none of it mattered.

Because he chose her.

"Fine," I said coldly. "I'll go. I'll wear black. I'll stand at the back. And I'll smile like the rest of the sheep."

Maggie's expression softened. "You're stronger than this, Fay."

"I'm tired of being strong," I whispered. "Just for one night, I want to be selfish. I want to say no. I want to scream."

"But you won't."

"No. I won't."

Because poise was survival.

Because tears had no place in boardrooms or ballrooms.

Because I was Fay Wolfgang.

Tall. Cold. Collected.

And absolutely wrecked.

I stood, pushing my chair back slowly and smoothing down my pencil skirt. My blouse was ivory silk, tucked in cleanly. My heels clicked against the floor as I walked to the window, staring at the skyline.

Outside, the world kept moving. Unbothered.

Inside me, something was shattering again.

I wondered if he knew.

If he remembered that night I told him I wanted more.

If he ever missed me the way I missed him.

I doubted it.

Men like Adam didn't look back.

They made decisions. They bore the weight.

And they moved on.

But women like me?

We carried the silence.

The "almosts."

The ghost of something that was never quite real but felt more honest than any diamond ring.

I turned back to Maggie. "I'll be ready by seven. I'll meet you there."

She nodded. "I'll bring vodka."

I managed a smile. "Make it cold."