Chapter 3

A murmur rippled through the room as the door opened, and I looked up.

It was Nathan and Vivian.

They walked in wearing matching outfits, chatting and laughing casually, as if they belonged together.

Nathan kept one hand light but possessive on Vivian's waist.

His gaze was oozing with adoration.

At a single glance, anyone would have thought they were the real couple.

Nearby colleagues whispered among themselves, gushing about how perfect they looked together.

They kept sneaking sympathetic glances my way.

Everyone compared me to Vivian, and without exception, they all thought she was the better, more beautiful choice.

Hearing their quiet comments stung a little.

But more than anything, I felt relieved.

As Nathan and Vivian stood close, lost in each other, my coworkers pretended to focus on their work, but their eyes kept darting between the three of us—starved for every bit of the drama unfolding right in front of them.

Everyone in the office knew exactly what was going on.

Nathan and I were engaged, and everyone knew I'd once been head over heels in love with him.

But now Nathan didn't even bother hiding how fiercely he guarded Vivian, and my coworkers watched me with looks of quiet pity and knowing sympathy.

It was like they could already picture me falling to pieces, crying and clinging to Nathan, begging him not to leave.

One of my closer colleagues eyed me with obvious concern.

But I said nothing, just quietly packed my things.

Nathan frowned at me, his expression sharp with irritation. "What's with that blank look? Who are you putting on a show for? What are you even doing over there?"

I lifted my head with a calm, steady smile and gestured at my box. "I'm resigning. Just clearing out my desk. Don't worry—I won't be in your way anymore, and I won't upset Vivian either."

Just then, Vivian sauntered over, her hips swaying gently as she walked.

She set a slice of mango cake right in front of me.

"Ms. Moore, Nathan made this for me," she said, wearing a sweet, innocent grin. "I don't suppose you've ever tried his cooking? He's surprisingly good! You should have a bite.

"Please don't stay mad at him. Good jobs are hard to come by, you know. Even if your family's well-off, you shouldn't throw away such a good opportunity."

I didn't touch the cake.

Vivian's smile faltered, and she glanced at Nathan with a hurt, fragile expression.

Nathan's face darkened instantly, his voice cold as ice. "Vivian's being kind. The least you can do is accept it. Do you have no manners at all?"

Being kind, huh?

I lifted my gaze to meet his, a bitter, humorless smirk tugging at my lips. "Nathan, I'm allergic to mangoes."

He froze, clearly caught off guard. "Wait... I never knew that."

Seeing Nathan fall silent, Vivian quickly jumped in, her tone soft yet accusatory. "Nathan told me you always bring mangoes home. Ms. Moore, if you don't like me, just say it. You don't have to make up lies."

I let out a quiet, sardonic laugh.

I always brought mangoes home because Nathan loved them. I'd never eaten a single bite myself.

The way he looked at me—so distant, so unconcerned—sent a sharp, throbbing ache through my chest.

After all those years growing up side by side, he'd never even noticed I was allergic.

Before I could speak, Nathan's temper flared even hotter.

He snatched a fresh mango from Vivian's hand and hurled it straight at my face. When I didn't flinch, his eyes turned icy with contempt. "Marina, since when did you become such a liar?"

I lowered my head, and red welts quickly broke out across my skin.

A coworker spotted the rash and gasped in alarm.

My breathing grew shallow and rapid, and then everything went black.