Chapter 3

I got back to the penthouse well after midnight. The lights were on.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, the cheap brand I always bought for myself.

"You know I hate the smell of that stuff," Olivia's voice came from the living room.

She was on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She didn't look up.

"It's my beer," I said, my voice flat.

"And it's my house," she retorted. "And you didn't do the dishes before you left. The sink is full."

I looked at the sink. One plate, one fork. Mine. From the dinner I ate alone.

"I'll get to it," I said, taking a long drink of the beer. The bitterness was grounding.

I remembered all the times I had complained about being tired, about her leaving messes for me to clean up. She always had the same reply.

"You're the assistant, Ethan. This is part of the job. Don't be so ungrateful. I give you a place to live, a salary. What more do you want?"

Love. Respect. To be seen. That' s what I wanted.

She finally looked up from her phone, a slight frown on her face. "Don't be mad about the kiss-cam thing. It was for publicity. Ryan's new campaign needed a boost. It meant nothing."

"And the engagement announcement?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion. "Was that for publicity too?"

She flinched, just for a second. "That... that was Ryan getting carried away. You know how he is. It's complicated. We have a long history."

I knew. I had seen the way she looked at him. They had rekindled whatever they had before. I wasn't just a stand-in anymore. I was an obstacle.

"You seem different tonight," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Are you sick?"

"Just tired," I said.

Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, and her entire expression softened.

"Hey, you," she cooed into the phone. "No, I'm not asleep. Just got home... Yes, of course I miss you too."

She stood up, walking towards the bedroom as she talked. "The bed feels so empty without you... Okay, I'll wait up."

She disappeared into the bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room. The silence was deafening.

For eight years, I had waited. Waited for her to come home. Waited for her to choose me. Waited for a love that was never really mine.

Tonight, I wasn't waiting anymore.

I finished my beer, washed my plate and fork, and went to the small guest room I sometimes used when she worked late.

The next day, she didn't come home at all. At the office, the gossip was buzzing.

"Did you see the pictures? Olivia and Ryan were out all night! She's so crazy about him."

"It's like a fairy tale. The tech queen and the influencer king."

I sat at my desk, the one right outside her office, and a bitter smile touched my lips. A queen and a king. And what was I? The court jester. The servant.

It was clear now. The gap between us wasn't just about fame or money. It was about worth. In her world, I had none.