Chapter 4

The words hung in the air. For a moment, Brett just stared at her, his drunken smile frozen on his face.

Then, the smile soured. "What did you say?"

Elaine stood up, pushing past him to get a paper towel to clean the mess on the floor. She calmly wiped away the noodles and broth.

"Because of Daniella?" he snarled, his voice rising. "Or because I didn' t give you that money? Your brother isn' t dead, why are you acting so dramatic?"

Kelsey. The mention of his name was a physical blow. All the numbness she felt evaporated, replaced by a cold, hard rage.

She turned to face him. "The money was never the point, Brett. It was the fact that you didn' t care."

"Didn' t care?" He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "I built this entire company for us! For you! Everything I have is yours!"

"Then pay me," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "Pay me what you owe me. For the last two projects. The ones whose blueprints have my name on them. Seventy thousand dollars."

His face contorted with fury. He saw this as the ultimate insult. That she would reduce their seven years together to a transaction.

"You want money? Is that all you think about?" he roared. He had grown up with nothing, and his biggest fear was being seen as poor or cheap. He hated being reminded of it.

"Fine!" he screamed. He grabbed his phone from the counter.

"You want to talk about money? Let's talk about money!"

He fumbled with the banking app, his fingers clumsy with rage and alcohol.

"You think seventy thousand is a lot? I'll give you a hundred thousand! Is that enough for you? Will that make you happy?"

He jabbed at the screen, then hurled the phone across the room. It hit the wall just inches from her head, then clattered to the floor.

Elaine didn't flinch.

A moment later, her own phone buzzed on the counter. A notification from her bank. You have received a wire transfer of $100,000.

He had actually done it.

He collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily, scrubbing his hands over his face. He looked broken, pathetic. In the past, this was the moment she would have gone to him, held him, told him it was all okay.

He was waiting for it. He looked up at her, his eyes full of a childish expectation for her to fix this, to soothe his temper, to make it all go away.

She just stared back at him.

Silently, she walked over and picked up his phone. The screen was cracked. She placed it on the coffee table. She finished cleaning the ramen from the floor.

Then she picked up her suitcase.

He watched her, confusion dawning on his face. "Lainey? What are you doing? I gave you the money."

She didn' t say a word. She just walked to the door.

The truest way to leave someone, she realized, wasn' t with a dramatic, tearful fight. It was with silence. It was when you closed the door quietly behind you, and they didn' t even realize you were gone for good until it was too late.

She checked into a hotel near the airport.

Later that night, a video call request popped up on her laptop. It was from Daniella.

Curiosity got the better of her. She accepted.

Daniella' s face filled the screen, smug and triumphant. She was in Brett' s car. In the background, Elaine could see Brett kneeling on the pavement, pleading with Daniella through the open window.

"He loves me, Elaine," Daniella purred. "He just told me. He said he was only with you out of habit, out of pity."

Brett' s voice was audible, desperate and broken. "Daniella, please. It was a mistake. I love you. Please come home."

Elaine felt a bitter taste in her mouth. So this was his grand plan. He wasn' t ruining Daniella. He was groveling at her feet.

"He' s pathetic, isn' t he?" Daniella said with a laugh. "But he' s my pathetic man now."

Elaine didn't say anything.

"Don' t worry," Daniella added. "I' ll take good care of your leftovers."

Elaine looked at the screen, at the woman who had stolen her life and the man who had let her.

She simply replied, "Good luck. You' ll need it."

Then she ended the call, turned off her laptop, and went to sleep.