Chapter 3

Around noon the next day, while packing up the baking tools that had accompanied me for years, Ethan called.

"Chloe, I left the project pitch document in my top desk drawer. Bring it over to the office for me."

His tone was as casual and entitled as ever.

I glanced at the folder sitting on the counter.

I had planned to tell him I was leaving over the phone.

But after a moment's thought, I picked up the folder.

Consider it a final goodbye—a clean, definitive end.

When I arrived at his office building, laughter was drifting out from the breakroom.

Just as I reached the door of the executive suite, I heard the voice of Ethan's business partner, Marcus.

"Hey, Ethan, you delayed buying the house and you're spending all your time babysitting the new team. Aren't you worried Chloe might actually get fed up and walk out?"

Marcus's tone carried a clear warning.

My hand froze on the doorknob.

Silence hung inside for a few seconds before Ethan's familiar, cool voice drifted out.

"She won't leave."

He answered without a heartbeat of hesitation, even letting out a light chuckle.

"She's not like Hailey. Hailey is young and gets overwhelmed easily; she needs guidance right now. Chloe is mature, and she depends on me. She gave up her passion for baking just to support me. Even if she's upset, she'll get over it in a couple of days."

I stood outside the door, listening through the blinds to his assessment of me.

In his eyes, five years of patience and compromise were nothing more than proof that I had nowhere else to go.

It wasn't that he didn't know I would be hurt.

He just knew that after hurting, I would still stay put.

"You're playing with fire, man. Don't let it blow up in your face," Marcus joked.

"It won't," Ethan replied with absolute certainty. "She's smart. She knows how much sunk cost she's put into this relationship. She can't afford to walk away."

I slowly let go of the doorknob.

In the past, whenever we fought, I was always the one who made a late-night snack, swallowed my hurt, and ironed his shirt for the next morning.

He used to stroke my hair and say, "Chloe, you're so low-maintenance."

Back then, my heart melted, thinking it meant he loved me.

Now I understood. "Low-maintenance" just meant I would always be put last. It meant I didn't deserve to be prioritized.

I didn't push the door open.

I turned around, walked to the front desk, and handed the folder to the receptionist.

"Could you please give this to Ethan?"

The receptionist took it with a bright smile. "Mrs. Vance, aren't you going in? He's right in his office."

"No need."

I shook my head, my voice so steady it surprised even myself.

"I have things to take care of. I'm leaving."

Stepping out of the glass building, the autumn sun hit my eyes with a sudden glare.

I pulled out my phone and opened the airline app.

Without hesitation, I booked a one-way ticket to that coastal town down south for tomorrow night.

Departure time: 8:00 PM.

The exact same time Hailey's long-awaited concert was scheduled to begin.

At that exact hour, he would be granting someone else's wish.

And I would be walking out of his life forever.

I took a deep breath.

The crisp breeze brushed against my face, bringing a long-lost sense of clarity and freedom.

I didn't return to the apartment we had shared for five years.

Instead, I went straight to the mall, buying a few casual outfits and essentials suited for life by the ocean.

Since he believed I couldn't live without him,

I would show him just how far I could go on my own.