Chapter 3
"Mrs. Martin, she's only staying here for a short while," Randy said.
"Staying there? And she's wearing my daughter's pajamas?" my mother shot back.
There was complete silence on the other end.
My father hung up the phone.
Three minutes later, Randy messaged me again.
[I already stood up for you in the family group chat. Now you're letting your parents come after me like this? Don't you think that's a bit unfair?]
[Sylvia meant no harm. Stop always thinking the worst about everything.]
[I've rescheduled the marriage license for next Wednesday. The wedding's still on.]
I stared at the screen, typing out my reply slowly.
[No need to go through with it.]
[Please clear things up in the family group chat.]
He replied almost instantly.
[What do you want me to say? Tell everyone you called off the wedding because you were jealous?]
As those words appeared on the screen, I suddenly felt completely calm.
It wasn't that he didn't know why I left.
He only wanted to believe that all my resistance came from jealousy.
That way, he never had to admit he was wrong.
The next day, I went to the office to hand in my resignation.
Randy and I both worked at Luminance, a wedding planning company.
He was in charge of business operations, and I was the planning director.
Three years ago, when the company launched its luxury wedding division, I led the team that made Luminance well known across the city.
After Sylvia came back from abroad, Randy placed her in the branding department.
During her first presentation, she misspelled the client's name three times.
Randy jumped in to smooth things over for her. "She's just returned from abroad. She needs time to adjust."
But when one of my new hires missed a punctuation mark, he tossed the file right back at them. "Luminance doesn't keep people who can't pay attention to details."
Back then, I thought he knew how to keep business and personal matters separate.
Later, I realized he simply treated people differently.
When the HR director saw my resignation letter, she nearly spilled her coffee.
"Ms. Martin, the anniversary show is next month, and you're the lead planner," she said.
"I've already put together all the handover documents," I replied.
A cold voice came from outside the door. "Who said you could do the handover?"
Randy pushed the door open and walked in.
He was still wearing the same shirt from last night, the cuffs badly wrinkled, but his tie was perfectly straight.
He looked like he'd been a mess all night, but was still trying to keep up appearances.
The HR director quickly left the room.
Once the door closed, he slammed my resignation letter down on the desk.
"First you cancel the marriage, then the wedding, and now you don't even want your job?" Randy said. "Verena, what else do you expect me to do to make things right?"
I closed my laptop. "This isn't about making things right."
"Then what is it?" He yanked out a chair, sat down, and leaned in.
That was the same posture he used during negotiations when pressuring clients to give in.
"I'll have Sylvia move out today, switch out the guest room, and I'll tell the family group chat you're not feeling well," Randy said.
"The wedding goes ahead as planned, the marriage license is still happening, and you're not quitting," he added. "See? I'm compromising here."
Compromising?
He pushed me out of our marriage, our home, and my career, then told me he was willing to compromise.
I asked, "Why can't you tell the truth in the family group chat?"
He frowned. "What truth?"
"That you ditched me the day we got our marriage license and brought Sylvia back to our place," I said.
"Do you have to put it like that?" he shot back.
"The truth is bitter, and now it's my fault for revealing it?" I shot back.
Randy's eyes finally sparked with anger. "Verena, I'm keeping quiet to give you some face. Everyone will think you lost it over Sylvia and called off the wedding. In the end, you'll be the one who looks bad, not me."
I couldn't help but laugh. "So labeling it as pre-wedding anxiety was supposed to be for my own good?"
"At least it's not as embarrassing as being jealous," he said without hesitation.
The words came out so quickly that even he seemed taken aback by what he'd said.
I didn't argue anymore.
I took an external drive out of my bag and slid it over to him.
"All the files for the anniversary show are on there," I said. "Staff schedules, vendor contacts, client preferences, backup plans, I've got everything sorted."
Randy didn't take it.
He stared at the drive, his expression growing uglier by the second. "You already had this ready?"
"Last night," I replied.
"That means when you moved back home, you weren't hurt at all. You were planning how to leave me." His voice dropped, like he'd finally found proof against me.
"Verena, you're really cold-hearted," he said.
"You never even saw me cry," I said.
His hand froze in midair.
When I picked up my resignation letter, he suddenly reached out to snatch it from me.
The paper tore right down the middle between us.
He held his half of the letter tight, his voice low and heavy. "We built Luminance together. And now you're leaving because of Sylvia? How is that fair to the team?"
"I'm not leaving because of Sylvia," I said.
"Then what is it for?" He stepped closer, his shadow falling across my desk. "Do you want me to give in at work too?"
"Let me tell you, the project isn't a place for you to dump your feelings," he added.
That line hit like a blunt knife twisting in my gut.
He thought all the preparations I'd made for the handover were part of an act.
To him, refusing to keep covering for everyone else made me unprofessional, and wanting to leave him was me trying to make him back down.
I let go of the letter.
He thought I was giving in, and his face softened a bit.
The next second, I took off my ID badge and set it on the desk. "Then please, Mr. Cardenas, process my resignation the proper way. Stop using your role as my fiancé to interfere with your employees."