Chapter 3

Mark hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting between my pale face and Chloe' s look of feigned concern. I saw the calculation in his eyes. He chose her.

He placed a comforting hand on Chloe' s arm. "You're right. Ava, you should go home and rest. Chloe and I can handle the rest of the presentation."

The air left my lungs. He was sidelining me, replacing me, right here in front of everyone. And he was doing it with my own well-being as the excuse. The pain was a sharp, physical thing, a hollow ache in my chest where my heart used to be.

That was it. That was the moment something inside me finally broke. It wasn't a loud shatter, but a quiet, clean snap. The part of me that had held on, that had hoped, that had loved him, simply ceased to exist. I looked at him and felt nothing. Not anger, not sadness. Just a vast, empty coldness.

I got home and my phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. It wasn't Mark. It was an email from Ethan.

Subject: A little piece of my world.

Hey Ava,

Things are tough out here this week, but I saw this in the local market and it made me think of you. You once told me you loved the color of the sunset over the desert. Hope this brings a little bit of that light to your day.

Thinking of you, Ethan.

Attached was a photo of a beautiful, hand-woven scarf, dyed in brilliant shades of orange, pink, and gold. Ethan. My pen pal. The humanitarian aid worker I' d been writing to for over a year, a man I' d never met but who knew me better than anyone. His emails were a lifeline, a connection to a world outside my suffocating bubble of work and heartbreak.

I replied immediately, my fingers flying across the screen.

It' s beautiful, Ethan. Thank you. It brought more light than you know.

I leaned against the counter, reading his words again. He didn' t offer solutions or empty platitudes. He just shared a piece of his world, a simple, thoughtful gesture that made me feel seen. It was more than Mark had given me in years.

Later that evening, the doorbell rang. It was Mark. He stood on my doorstep, looking impatient.

"We need to talk," he said, trying to push past me into the apartment. The apartment we had chosen together.

"There's nothing to talk about, Mark."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ava. You can't just request a transfer. We have a life here."

"No, you have a life here. With Chloe. I'm building a new one."

I saw a flash of something in his eyes. Not hurt. Not regret. Annoyance. He was annoyed that his toy was broken.

"Are you really doing this because of that email guy? The charity worker? You've never even met him."

His voice was laced with contempt. He couldn't comprehend that I would choose an unseen stranger over him.

"His name is Ethan," I said, my voice cold. "And yes. I'm choosing him."

Mark laughed, a short, ugly sound. "Fine. Have your little rebellion. But don't come crying to me when you realize what you've thrown away." He looked me up and down, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're going to need a reference from me to get a good position in the Chicago office. Don't forget who holds the power here, Ava."

The memory of the last six years flashed in my mind. All the nights I' d spent refining his proposals, all the clients I' d won for the team, all the credit he had taken. He didn' t see me as a partner. He saw me as a resource.

I looked him straight in the eye. "I'm not going to the Chicago office, Mark."

I took a deep breath. "I'm quitting. And I'm moving to be with Ethan."

I shut the door in his face, the click of the lock the sweetest sound I had ever heard.