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The day I officially resigned from Julian Thorne's company, I bought a bouquet of white roses to take home. "If you take good care of it, this white rose can last at least seven days," the florist said. Before I left, I placed it in a vase by the door, a final farewell. But even as the white rose withered and rotted, the person I wished to say goodbye to never arrived. ... "Assistant Vance, the CEO has signed the resignation application. It's just... he doesn't seem to have noticed that you're the one resigning. " My expression remained calm as I listened to the HR manager's hesitant voice. Last night, for the first time in the seven years Julian and I had lived together, I found another woman's stockings in our home. I thought I would confront Julian hysterically, demanding to know why he kept cheating, why he kept trampling on my heart. But I didn't. I