In the end, my parents stuck around to comfort me. "Why don't you come back to Caverton with us?" They'd asked before. I slumped in my seat, glanced up at their hopeful eyes. Caverton—capital city, home to the biggest law firm around. Their firm. I became a lawyer because of them. I was supposed to join right after graduation. Then I met Owen in grad school and followed him to Ainsley instead. He came from a tiny rural town. He hated it when anyone brought up having more, so I kept my background quiet. For five years, he thought I was just another small-town girl like him. So for the past five years, I never told him the truth. In his eyes, I was just another small-town girl like him. In those five years, I went from newbie to name partner material. We crushed firm bonuses three years straight. Everyone called us the golden couple. I figured someday he'd be cool with the truth. But that moment never came. I sighed. No point now. "Okay. I'll go." My parents lit up. Mom squeezed my hand. "Good girl. We'll book your flight. You're not staying here and suffering." After settling them in, I went home. Still cold. Still empty. I tossed together some pasta, opened social, and boom—Vanessa's latest post. She was in a tight workout set, all snuggled up to Owen. [Dragged someone's almost-groom to play a match with me. He was kinda grumpy, but I promised him dinner at my place. That did the trick, hehe.] I gagged. He wasn't coming back tonight. Same old story. Thank goodness we never made it legal. I was done swallowing my pride. *** Next morning, I grabbed my bags and turned in my resignation. Mr. Specter, my boss, wasn't having it. With my track record, he tried hard to change my mind. While we were talking, Owen strolled in with some files. One look and—bam. Love bite on his neck. Fruity perfume still clinging to him. He looked like he'd just crawled out of someone else's bed. Funny, he used to hate when I left marks. Said it looked unprofessional. So I never did. Even at our most intense, I'd dig into the sheets instead. Guess it wasn't about the marks. Just who they came from. Mr. Specter groaned. "Perfect. Talk to your girlfriend—she's quitting. You two fight or something?" "It's not about him," I said. "You're resigning?" Owen jumped in, talking over me. His eyes flicked to mine, jaw clenched. "Knew it," he said. "You're still mad about the wedding being canceled yesterday, huh?" Mr. Specter ducked out to give us space. As the door clicked shut, Owen came closer. "I told you—Vanessa hurt her leg. That's why I canceled. Why are you being so petty?" I kept my voice even. "I'm not mad. Just tired. I need a break." He crossed his arms, frowning. "Then take a vacation. Quitting like this makes it seem like you've got beef with Vanessa. How's a young girl like her supposed to stay here if people start whispering?" He forgot. All my vacation days? Burned on every wedding he bailed on. But sure—let's worry about poor Vanessa. The thought left me hollow. My eyes drifted to the mark on his neck. I didn't say a word. He caught me looking and covered it fast. "It's a mosquito bite. Don't overthink it." Weird. No fight, just... excuses. Sloppy ones. Ones I used to fall for. I nodded, kept quiet. Owen let out a breath and grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "That's more like it. A good lawyer knows how to let stuff go. Don't quit over this, okay? I'll make it up to you—dinner at Lunaire tonight." I didn't say a word. He took my silence as a yes. I'd meant to say goodbye, keep it clean. Now? I didn't even feel like bringing up Caverton. "Owen!" Vanessa barged in like she owned the place. He flinched and dropped his arm. Vanessa gave this fake little laugh. "Sorry to crash your date, but I really need help. I'm confused about this case..." Without a glance my way, he walked over, took the file, and leaned in to ask what part she didn't get. She cozied right up to him. They whispered like I wasn't even there, locked in their own little bubble. Then she linked her arm through his and strutted out with him. Just before the door shut, she turned, flashed me a smug little smile—then yanked it closed hard. Bang. The empty office went still. And then—crack. My bracelet snapped clean off and shattered across the floor. No warning. It was our first anniversary gift. Owen said it symbolized how perfect and unbreakable we were. I stared for a beat, then quietly picked up the pieces, ignoring the sting. Tossed them—and the last of whatever we had—straight in the trash.