Chapter 4

The emotional stress and the phantom feeling of the allergy made my head spin. I sat down heavily in the office chair, my ribs aching, and tried to breathe through the returning wave of nausea.

A moment later, Chloe reappeared in the doorway. "Are you really not feeling well?" she asked, a sliver of what might have been genuine concern in her voice. "I can get you some water."

She took a step toward the kitchen, but then a loud, theatrical cry came from the living room.

"Chloe! Ow! My love, I think I cut myself!" It was Liam, his voice pitched in a dramatic wail.

Chloe froze. Her head snapped toward the sound of his voice.

"Liam? Baby, what happened?"

She didn't even glance back at me. She just ran. I heard her skidding to a halt in the kitchen, her voice frantic.

"Oh my god, your finger! It's bleeding! Let me see!"

I could hear Liam's pathetic whimpering. "I was just trying to chop some vegetables for our salad... the knife slipped."

"You poor thing," Chloe cooed. "We need to get this cleaned and bandaged right away. Does it hurt badly?"

"It's throbbing," he whined. "I think... I think I might need to go to urgent care. I might need stitches."

I pushed myself up from the chair and walked slowly to the office door, peering out. Chloe was dabbing at Liam's index finger with a paper towel with the intensity of a battlefield medic operating on a fatal wound. Liam was leaning against her, his face a mask of exaggerated pain.

"Of course, baby, whatever you need," Chloe said, her voice filled with panic. "Let's go. We'll go right now. I'll drive."

She grabbed her purse and car keys, helping a perfectly capable Liam toward the door as if he were a wounded soldier. As they passed the office, her eyes met mine for a brief second. There was no apology, no acknowledgment of her abandoned offer to get me water. Her gaze was cold, dismissive. I was an obstacle, a piece of old furniture in her new life with him.

They left. The apartment door clicked shut behind them, leaving me in a profound and sudden silence.

I stood there for a long time, just listening to the quiet. It was the sound of the end. The sound of being completely and utterly alone.

My eyes fell on the box of chocolates she had left on the small table by the door. I walked over, picked it up, and without a second thought, dropped it into the trash can. The thud it made was deeply satisfying.

It was over. Not just the relationship, but the hope, the denial, the stupid, blind love that had cost me five years of my life. It was all in that trash can, along with the chocolates.

Liam's provocations, his smug little claims to my life, no longer stung. They were just the obnoxious buzzing of a fly. I felt a strange sense of detachment, of emotional distance. It was as if I was floating above the whole miserable scene, watching it unfold with a calm, clinical interest.

On the desk in the office sat an hourglass Chloe had bought for me on our first anniversary. "To our timeless love," the card had said. I picked it up. The sand was settled at the bottom. I flipped it over and watched the fine, golden grains begin to stream down.

Time's up, Chloe.

I took out my new phone, the one with the new number, and found the contact for my boss at the architectural firm.

"Ethan! Good to hear from you. Are you feeling better? Ready to come back?" he asked, his voice friendly.

"I'm feeling much better, David," I said. "But I'm calling to resign."

There was a stunned silence on the other end. "Resign? Ethan, what's going on? Is this about the Bridgerton project? We can put you back on it. You were the lead, for God's sake."

"It's not about that," I said calmly. "I'm moving. Back to my hometown."

"Wow. This is sudden," he said. A concerned colleague, Jessica, must have been nearby because I could hear her ask what was happening. David told her.

"Is he okay?" she asked, her voice audible. "Did he and Chloe break up?"

"I'm fine, Jess," I said, loud enough for her to hear. "And yes, we did. In fact, I'm going home to get married."

Another silence, this one even more shocked than the first.

"Well," David finally said, recovering. "I can't say I'm not disappointed to lose you, Ethan. You're one of the best we have. But... congratulations. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

"Thanks, David," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. "Me too."