Chapter 1

Victor Graham and I started a business together in a cold basement in Northvale, sharing a bedroom with others for five years.

Five years later, the company took off at the national forefront, and he became a rising star in the industry.

He once promised me a wedding in the basement, but now he always said, "Charlotte, just wait a little longer. The timing isn't right. My work's too crazy."

Yet the very next day, his newly hired secretary showed up at the shareholder dinner wearing the title of "the CEO's fiancée."

And on her finger was the diamond ring I'd gazed at behind that glass counter a thousand times.

"Emily was just being playful. She insisted on trying it on. That ring was always meant for you. Don't take it to heart. She's young. You're not going to hold this against her, are you?"

I smiled bitterly, exhaled a long breath, and set aside every ounce of love I'd carried through the years.

" Victor, I'm done waiting for you."

*****

"Victor has worked hard these past few years, I'll grant him that. But success is no excuse to lose his head," Nancy Kingston said.

Her husband was the largest shareholder in our group.

Nancy had always been gracious and warm, famous in the company for her saintly composure. She never corrected those beneath her unless absolutely necessary.

But now, the reprimand she sent along with the video seemed to come from a woman pushed past her limit.

"Letting his secretary wear the engagement ring and parade around as his fiancée at a shareholders' dinner, is that supposed to be a slap in the face to every legitimate wife in the room?

"Charlotte, keep him in line at home. If he wants to play around in private, fine, but stop bringing women like that into public places."

Faced with her anger, I didn't know how to respond.

The explanations and the words were lodged in my throat like fish bones, impossible to swallow, impossible to spit out.

I was not longer even considered Victor's fiancée; at best, I was an old girlfriend known within our circle of friends.

What standing did I have to address any of this?

In the video, Emily Rose, the young secretary, held a champagne flute, leaning languidly against Victor's shoulder, all elegance and bedroom eyes.

He tilted his head toward her, his gaze dripping with indulgence as he wiped a trace of red wine from her lip.

The assistant Emily was wearing a St. Laurent haute couture fitted dress that costs 5,000 dollars.

On her feet, crystal-studded heels from the same house made her impossibly delicate ankles look flawless.

Who would believe she was just a secretary earning one thousand dollars a month?

But the most expensive piece on her entire body was still that ring, the high-clarity, impossibly brilliant Chaumet Joséphine tiara diamond.

Three carats, priced at 660 thousand dollars. I knew the origin of the stone and the cut by heart.

Because on countless nights, I'd fantasized about wearing it, walking down the aisle toward the man I loved.

I tried it on many times and was reluctant to take it off, but I kept telling myself, "Wait a little longer for him, for Victor. We’ve come so far together; a few more days won’t hurt."

Now, I didn't want to wait a single second more.

In the living room sat the flowers Victor had sent, garish reds and purples, tacky beyond measure.

But that day when he brought it home for the anniversary, he smiled and said, "Emily has good taste. She said a woman your age would appreciate these colors."

Every woman cares about her age. No one wants it thrown in her face. That, I believed, was basic social decency.

And I was only twenty-nine. My best years were just beginning.

I refused to believe Victor didn't understand the subtle cruelties woven into a woman's world. But looking into those eyes, the same eyes that had kept me company through countless nights...

The composure and gentleness I'd been trained into over the years made me swallow the thorn.

I suppressed my anger, accepted the bouquet with a thin smile and a flicker of embarrassment.

"Your little secretary's taste is... not bad," I said.

That single sentence was all it took. It became the crime that sent Emily into a night-long meltdown, and sent Victor rushing to her side to soothe her tears.

Before walking out the door, he slipped on the shoes I'd polished to a mirror shine and said, with a note of reproach, "There's no need to be so passive-aggressive toward a young girl who's barely started her career. Over a bouquet of flowers, really? I'm disappointed in you.

"Honestly, you're no different from those bitter, insufferable housewives now."

After he left, every last ounce of strength drained from my body.

I slid down against the back of the door, boneless, and buried my face in my knees.

I remembered the birthday I'd spent with him in that basement up north, during the early days of the startup.

He'd bought me a single pink lychee rose from the flower shop and placed it in a clear glass bottle.

"Someday, I'll give you a thousand roses. Ten thousand roses. I'll give you a grand wedding filled with nothing but pink lychee roses. Do you believe me?"

Fresh out of university, Victor's eyes had blazed with light, fierce, resolute, burning with love, as he pressed his lips to mine.

"I believe you," I said.

In the end, he gave that grand wedding to someone else.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through our recent messages. Nearly all of them were about the new secretary, Emily.

There were complaints and compliments alike, but never a trace of genuine dislike.

[She's a college graduate and she can't even work the printer. Adorably stupid.]

[The little idiot secretary is actually growing up. She remembered I don't like shredded potatoes at lunch. Though why did all those potatoes end up in her mouth?]

[Charlotte, the dummy secretary said your name is because your mom loves soup. I told her your full name is Charlotte Rivers—after the River, flowing vast and endless. She actually laughed.]

All these years, I'd retreated behind the scenes. As the dutiful partner, I hadn't let up for a single moment.

I was busier than when I'd actually worked at the company, always holding my breath, trying to arrange everything perfectly, proving I was still worthy of him.

But now that breath had left me. I was exhausted beyond measure. I didn't want anything anymore.

Love came and went, and didn't it always end the same way?

The river flew on, vast and unceasing, and here, I bid him farewell forever.