Chapter 3

The Seattle rain fell in sheets against my windshield as I pulled into the company parking lot. Two weeks had passed since I'd accepted the New York position, but there were still belongings I needed to collect before making my final departure. I'd timed my visit for lunch hour, hoping to avoid... well, everyone.

Especially Kaleb.

I was reaching for my umbrella when movement near the building caught my eye. Mya stood huddled under the overhang, her shoulders shaking. Even from a distance, I could see the perfect tears tracking down her cheeks—not too messy, just enough to look devastating.

"Ezra!" she called out, her voice breaking. "Please, just talk to me."

I froze, one hand on my car door. Around us, several employees had stopped to watch, their expressions ranging from concern to suspicion.

"Mya," I said carefully, "I'm just here to collect my things."

"You can't just leave like this," she said, stepping closer. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lower lip trembling. "Everyone's saying you abandoned the project because of me."

"That's not true." I kept my voice level, aware of the audience we'd attracted.

"You told me I didn't belong here," she whispered, loud enough for others to hear. "That I should quit before I embarrassed myself."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "I never said that."

"You did," she insisted, a tear sliding down her cheek. "And now you're leaving, and everyone thinks I drove you away."

I noticed Kaleb among the onlookers, his expression darkening as he watched our exchange.

"This isn't the place for this conversation," I said quietly.

"Then where?" Mya demanded, her voice suddenly sharp before softening again. "You won't answer my calls. You won't read my messages."

Before I could respond, Kaleb stepped forward. "Ezra," he said, his tone carrying a warning. "Maybe you should take a break before driving back to New York."

I met his gaze steadily. "I'm fine, Kaleb."

---

The company meeting was held in the smaller conference room—just senior staff and department heads. I slipped in quietly, taking a seat at the back. No one seemed surprised to see me; news traveled fast here.

Kaleb stood at the front, reviewing quarterly projections. Mya sat in the front row, occasionally offering comments that made him smile. I focused on my notebook, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach.

When the meeting ended, I lingered, pretending to organize my notes. Most people filed out, but Kaleb remained, deep in conversation with Marcus Thompson and two other engineers.

"About Ezra," I heard Kaleb say, his voice low but clear. "I know there are questions about her departure."

I froze, pen poised over paper.

"Mya doesn't have Ezra's technical background," Kaleb continued, "but she's better suited for our collaborative environment. She's a team player."

A team player. The words stung more than they should have.

"Ezra's always been more... independent," he added. "But don't worry—once we're married, I'll make sure she comes back for visits. Maybe even consult on special projects."

I looked up, meeting Wilson's gaze across the room. His expression was grim.

"Kaleb still doesn't get it," Wilson mouthed silently.

No, he didn't.

---

Back in my apartment, I methodically packed each box with precision—engineering textbooks here, tools there, personal items separated by category. The system helped calm my racing thoughts.

The doorbell rang just as I finished sealing a box labeled "Kitchen—Miscellaneous."

"Ezra!" Mya's voice, high and demanding, filtered through the door. "Open up!"

I hesitated, then unlocked the door.

She burst in without waiting for an invitation, her face flushed with anger rather than tears.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, gesturing wildly at the packed boxes. "You can't just leave!"

"I already have a job in New York," I said quietly. "This is my last week in Seattle."

"You're trying to destroy my career!" she shouted, knocking a stack of carefully organized boxes. "Everyone's talking about how you're abandoning the team during a critical phase!"

I bent to pick up the fallen items. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" She followed me, her voice rising. "You're running away because you can't stand that I got the position you wanted!"

"Please leave," I said, my voice steady despite the anger building in my chest.

"You're jealous," she continued, louder now. "You've always been jealous of me!"

The commotion drew attention—I could hear footsteps in the hallway, murmurs of concern from neighbors peeking out their doors.

"Mya," I said firmly, "this is inappropriate."

But she was beyond reason, her eyes wild as she grabbed my arm. "You won't get away with this," she hissed. "Kaleb will never let you go!"

Behind her, I could see Mrs. Peterson from next door watching with wide eyes, her phone already in hand.

And I realized with sudden clarity that this—this chaos, this drama—was exactly what Mya wanted.