The letter crumples slightly under my fingers, but I can’t bring myself to tear it. My eyes sting and blur over the same lines I’ve already read ten times.
‘I want to choose myself.’
‘It wouldn’t make sense to follow you to Vancouver.’
‘I’m sorry, Levi.’
Are you, really?
Fuck. She chose her words with the same precision she used when solving case studies. Measured. Detached. Polite.
And I hate her for it. For being so calm while my chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.
I slam the letter down on the coffee table, breathing hard. My throat burns, my hands shake.
She could’ve told me. She could’ve looked at me and said it wasn’t working. That she was scared. That we were moving too fast, perhaps.
We could’ve figured it out. We could’ve found a middle ground, like we always did. But instead, she took that choice away.
She didn’t give me a chance to fight for her. For us. To find a way out of a dilemma she didn’t even tell me about.
But through the anger, the disbelief, the gut-deep ache—all I can feel is my heart breaking.
Because she didn’t just leave.
Sheerasedme.
I’m a lesson, not a destination.
FOUR
Iris
PRESENT DAY
I need to stop shaking. It won’t be a good look if I randomly trip over my heels in front of Grace.
She’s put a lot of stock in me to lead this case. If I land Astor Holdings and Wentworths as clients, I’ll finally have the leverage I need to launch my own research vertical at Miller-Moore—the one I’ve spent the last three years building from the ground up. The Astor-Wentworth merger would secure the financial backing we need. It’severythingI’ve worked for.
And yet… I can’t stop this low hum of panic under my skin.
It’s not like I haven’t seen Levi over the years. He’s always in some business journal, occasionally in a gossip column. A few blurry photos of him with models and actresses. But that’s all. Just the curatedglimpses the world is allowed to see.
But I had shut myself off from those a few years ago. Choosing to put the past where it belonged.
I still don’t know why I’ve kept up with his work life, though. Morbid curiosity, maybe. Or the kind of emotional muscle memory that never really fades. Which is probably why I wanted to spearhead this merger of Astor Holdings and Wentworth Group, when I learned about it.
It was the perfect career opportunity, even if it meant digging up something I’d managed to bury deeply enough. And now, the possibility of seeing him in person—ofactuallybeing across the same table as him, speaking in numbers and valuations instead of affection and shared dreams—it’s wrecking my nervous system.
I take a breath and force my shoulders back.
This is business. It’s been ten years. He’s probably forgotten everything.
Grace and I step into the soft-lit hallway, following his executive assistant, Mr. Choi, down the corridor. He’s the one I’ve been coordinating with for the past forty-eight hours, arranging this very impromptu sit-down. Although he’s been faultlessly professional via emails, I couldn’t help but notice an undercurrent of apprehension in the way he spoke with me a few minutes ago.
I’m slightly unsettled as a thought drifts into my mind. He’s Levi’s EA—sure—but is he aware of the past? Does he know?
I swallow hard, my heels echo with every step.
