The moment I found my boyfriend’s private account, he had just posted a new thread: What are some good cities for a couple’s getaway? As a joke, I anonymously recommended a historic town upstate that I’d always wanted to visit but had never gotten the chance. Ten minutes later, he replied to my comment. “Thanks, but my little girl and I already went there for the midsummer festival this year.” “She didn’t like it.” 1 My finger froze over the screen. I clicked again on the profile picture—a jumble of random numbers and code—and scrolled through his feed. There weren't many posts, but every single one was undeniable proof that this was my boyfriend, Bob. The custom watch I’d given him. The unique hydroponic plant on his office desk. My own hand, wearing our anniversary ring, from a photo taken on our fifth year together… I took a steadying breath and reread his reply. My little girl. I was two years older than Bob. He had never, not once, called me his little girl. And the midsummer festival… This year, during the festival, he and his team were on a business trip. He’d been so busy he hadn’t even called. I calmly messaged my assistant, asking her to pull the list of everyone from the tech department who went on that trip. Three minutes later, I had my answer. Chloe. The only female intern on the list. A “little girl” who had just graduated from college a year ago. Of course, it was her. My mind flashed back to last night, when I’d brought up taking a vacation next week to unwind. The massive project he was leading was finally wrapping up, and the coming week was supposed to be his first real break. But before I could even finish my sentence, he’d looked up from his computer screen and said flatly, “I have another business trip next week. No time.” “If you want to go, just go with your friends.” In six years together, it was the first time he had ever refused to take a vacation with me. Ever since we started working at the same company, we had always synced our annual leave. And until I found his private account, until I saw that post, I had clung to a sliver of hope that he was just planning a surprise for me. “Director Hayes, VP Barry submitted his vacation request three days ago,” a colleague from HR informed me. “Also on leave next week are the VP of Operations, someone from Legal, and… Chloe, the intern from the tech department. She’s taking a week of sick leave.” A bitter, silent laugh escaped my lips. Whenever Chloe’s name came up, people would pause, their voices trailing off. The day she started, rumors that she was the niece of a board member at corporate headquarters had spread like wildfire. Everyone treated her like a princess just there to pad her resume. Only Bob had put on a show of impartiality when he mentioned her to me. “She’s just an intern. They’re all the same in my eyes.” But over the past year, the “special treatment” he gave her had become painfully obvious. He’d worn the red string bracelet she gave him behind the custom watch I’d gifted him, claiming she’d gotten it blessed at a monastery and it was just for good luck. He’d placed the stuffed animal she gave him in the most prominent spot on his desk, insisting that everyone in the department got one and he didn’t want to be accused of singling her out. He forgot our six-year anniversary for the first time, yet he remembered that the next day marked Chloe’s 100th day at the company and had already booked a table at her favorite restaurant. And every time I questioned him about these things, he would dismiss it as me being paranoid. “Given who she is, it’s only natural for me to look out for her a little more.” “It’s just office politics, Claire. You’re a director, you should understand how this game is played.” It was because I understood all too well that I had let it slide, again and again. Until today, when I saw this post—this irrefutable proof. If before I had only sensed his heart slowly drifting away, now, I knew it was time to make a clean break. I sat in my office, numb, for the rest of the afternoon, then went home to wait for Bob to finish his overtime. “I saw your leave request at HR,” I said, lounging on the chaise. I heard his footsteps halt just inside the door. “You were investigating me? That’s my private information.” His voice was laced with anger. “Is it?” I said without looking up. “Does your ‘private information’ also include your little girl?” 2 In the six years we’d been together, I had rarely used such a tone with him. I remember when he first joined the company. I was already a team lead, having built a reputation for being efficient, decisive, and for keeping my professional and private lives strictly separate. Back then, he would hold me and laugh, saying that everyone else only saw my tough exterior, but only he knew my softer, more passionate side. From college until now, I had given him so much of that softness. So much that, eventually, he started to take it for granted. Since he no longer valued it, I no longer needed to offer it. “What’s the matter? You have the guts to do it, but not to admit it?” I stood up, facing the man I had loved for six years. The air grew thick with tension. Bob turned his face away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Next month, there’s a chance I could be transferred to the corporate headquarters overseas.” After a long silence, he finally spoke. I raised an eyebrow, setting my water glass down. “And what does that have to do with you cheating?” Bob’s brow furrowed in annoyance, clearly displeased with my choice of words. “What does it have to do with it? Claire, this is a special promotion, a once-in-three-years opportunity. Do you have any idea how much effort I’ve put in just to get on Chloe’s good side?” He sighed, his voice taking on a martyred tone. “Can’t you be more understanding for once? Can’t you see how tired I am?” What a magnificent, self-serving excuse. He wanted to use Chloe and her board-member uncle as his personal rocket to the top, but he also didn't want the stain of being a cheater. So he was still trying to argue his way out of it. “In that case, you should go straight to your ‘little girl’ and ride your coattails to success,” I said with a faint smile. “Bob, I wish you all the best.” “Claire, you—!” His face flushed with humiliation, but as his eyes met my unflappable expression, he faltered. There wasn't a single trace of sadness on my face. Just the calm, detached air of someone tossing out a bag of trash. I knew exactly what he was thinking. My indifference was bruising his ego. “Do you really not know why I’ve been trying so hard to get close to her?” he finally spat out, trying to regain control. “I can put up with it for the sake of our future, but you’re getting hung up on every little thing.” “Claire, you’re just too controlling,” he said, his eyes scanning me critically. “It was just a private account, a few lines I wrote to play the part. Is that really worth interrogating me like this?” He was desperately trying to save face, to provoke a reaction from me. Every word was designed to paint me as the suspicious, unsupportive partner, while he was the one making noble sacrifices. Too bad for him, that act didn't work on me. The word “understanding” was not in my vocabulary. “Controlling,” however, suited me just fine. “You’re right, I am controlling,” I said. “Controlling enough that I can no longer tolerate my cheating ex-boyfriend standing in the house I paid for in full.” “Bob, get out. The moving company I called will be here soon. You’re welcome.” And so, against the backdrop of the wind howling outside and Bob’s furious curses, my apartment was finally quiet again by three in the morning. To avoid office gossip, Bob had never made our relationship public. I’d understood his reservations at the time, but looking back, it was clear he had never considered me his only option. Sure enough, three days after I unilaterally ended things, Bob and Chloe started appearing together everywhere, making no effort to hide their new relationship. It was like a declaration of war. Then, right on schedule, a box of candy appeared on my desk—the brand Bob always ordered for me. I have severe hypoglycemia and tend to get dizzy when I overwork myself. It used to worry him sick, so every month, he would have a box of my favorite candy delivered directly to my office. I looked at this ghost of our dead relationship, sighed, and was about to put it away when Chloe pushed my door open and walked in. “Director Hayes, sorry, but it looks like a delivery was sent to the wrong person.” She sauntered in, her eyes glinting with triumph. “Those are the announcement gifts Bob is giving out to our colleagues. Can I have them back?” 3 In all my years, I’d never heard of an “announcement gift.” The way she was acting, you’d think they were getting married tomorrow and were rushing to hand out wedding favors. It was so brazen it was almost comical. “I see. Well, go ahead and take them,” I said with a flick of my chin toward the box, then turned back to my computer. She froze, clearly taken aback that her provocation had completely failed to land. “I know you’re Bob’s ‘ex-girlfriend,’” she said, putting heavy emphasis on the last word. “But he’s mine now. So, Director Hayes, please learn to keep your distance. Don’t try to take what isn’t yours.” So young, I thought to myself, a wry smile playing on my lips. “Miss Shen, are you aware that when he asked you out, he was still in a relationship with me?” Chloe’s face went pale. So, she knew. Of course, she knew. “And you think,” I continued, my voice level, “that I would actually fight you for a man who cheats on his girlfriend and then has the audacity to beg for a gift back to use as an ‘announcement present’ with his new flame?” I shook my head slowly. “A man like that is beneath me.” Her expression turned ugly. She opened her mouth to say something else, but I cut her off. “And frankly, Miss Shen, so are you. Barging into a director’s office without knocking shows a profound lack of professionalism and basic manners.” “How did someone like you even get hired here? Tina,” I called to my assistant, “please show her out.” I think Chloe was crying as she ran out of my office. I didn't particularly care. I had more important things to deal with. Later, Sarah, the general manager of the tech department and a personal friend, came to see me. She brought up the overseas promotion, her voice hesitant. The tech department had two Vice Presidents: Bob and a woman named Diane, who was equally qualified and also eager for the transfer to headquarters. “I thought it would be a fair competition between them,” Sarah said, “but now with Bob being so public with Chloe, he must have everything locked down. It’s disgusting watching him get his way like this.” She pursed her lips in distaste. “Claire, I know tech talent is a priority, but you’ve been here for seven years. Based on seniority alone…” Sarah knew about Bob and me, and she knew the advantage Chloe gave him. Her words were a mix of concern and indignation on my behalf. “It’s fine. I trust that headquarters will make a fair decision,” I said calmly, flipping through a file. “Besides, I’m not in the running for that position, so there’s no conflict.” We chatted for a few more minutes before I dove back into my work. A little later, I happened to see Bob’s new post on my social feed. A picture of the entire tech department, each person holding a gift, celebrating his new relationship. Most of the comments were congratulatory, people being polite after receiving a gift, but I could only imagine what they were really thinking. A flood of messages came in from friends who knew the real story, all asking what had happened. I gave them a brief rundown, and just before leaving for the day, I called my assistant in to book a flight for me. The words had barely left my mouth when, just like Chloe, Bob threw my door open without knocking. “Why are you booking a flight there? Are you trying to go to headquarters too?” He stood there, aggressive and greedy, a bitter glint in his eyes. He looked nothing like the earnest, handsome young man who had pursued me all those years ago. “You’re not actually thinking of competing for the promotion, are you?” His gaze turned pitying. “Claire, headquarters just promoted your predecessor last year. There’s no way they’d choose you again this year.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You embarrassed Chloe today, and now she’s throwing a fit, saying she needs to ‘reconsider’ who gets her uncle's support. Just play along with this, Claire. As soon as I get the transfer, I’ll dump her. Don’t you want to work at headquarters? Once I’m in, I can pull some strings and get you in, too. It’ll be easy.” He paused, a look of magnanimous compromise on his face. “Just bear with it a little longer. For me.” 4 He looked so self-satisfied, as if he were bestowing upon me some great act of charity. I felt like I was watching a monkey perform at a circus. It was utterly baffling. Bring me in? The moment his plane touched down overseas, I’d be getting a breakup text. I had no doubt about that. “Next time, install a new keycard lock on my door. I’m tired of uninvited people barging in,” I instructed my assistant before finally turning my gaze to Bob. “Bear with it?” I repeated. “VP Barry, are you suggesting I should stay here and ‘bear with it’ so I have a front-row seat to your cheating scandal? Or perhaps so I can broadcast it to the entire company?” “I told you, I’m not cheating!” I noticed that whenever I used the word “cheat,” he would have an outsized reaction. If he had just been honest and admitted he was dumping me to climb the corporate ladder, I might have respected his candor. But this—this was just pathetic. “Not cheating? You and Chloe have booked hotel rooms dozens of times in the past six months, and just last week you were looking at villas to live in together overseas.” I smiled, a cold, sharp thing. “Bob, did you really think you could fool me?” The color drained from his face. He had no idea I’d dug that deep. “Fine, Claire. If this is how you want to end our relationship, then there’s nothing more to say.” His tone suddenly shifted, becoming threatening. “I admit, I approached Chloe with a goal in mind. But after getting to know her, I’ve realized she’s so much better than you.” He puffed out his chest, a final, swaggering display of power. “You’re just pushing me to make our act a reality. And you… the next time you come to headquarters, you’ll be the one knocking on my door.” “You’re going to regret this.” I watched him walk away and simply laughed. After the holidays, headquarters sent formal invitations to both Vice Presidents, Bob and Diane, to attend a farewell banquet for the outgoing Director of Technology. Everyone knew it was more than just a farewell party; by the end of the night, the successor would be unofficially crowned. When I entered the venue, Bob was on Chloe’s arm, gliding through the room, schmoozing with executives, a confident smile on his face. The other candidate, Diane, stood off to the side, looking isolated and alone. “Claire? What are you doing here?” Bob finally spotted me, his hand tightening around his wine glass. I ignored his question, exchanging pleasantries with a few senior managers. Just days before, right before his flight, he’d sent me a text message. It was a long, patronizing farewell, saying he was off to a new life overseas and that I should learn to let go. He really thought I’d booked my flight just for show. Chloe’s expression soured when she saw me, but she whispered something to Bob, and soon the confident smirk returned to his face. The banquet began. My position as a director was higher than his, so my seat was naturally closer to the head of the table. After a few rounds of drinks, the outgoing director finally raised the topic on everyone’s mind. “So, have we decided on the new transfer from the branch office? Will they be my replacement, or are we promoting internally and bringing someone up from another department?” Bob froze, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. A strange, unsettling feeling began to creep over him. Could it be? Is Claire actually here to compete with me? He sat up straighter, his posture rigid with tension. Just then, the General Manager, seated next to me, spoke up. “Of course, we’re prioritizing talent from the tech department. We have two excellent candidates this year.” The GM smiled warmly in my direction. “Besides, our chairman’s own daughter has been overseeing the domestic branch. She’s been there long enough to have a sharp eye for talent, and she’s the one who recommended this year’s candidates.” He then turned directly to me. “So, Claire. Have you chosen a worthy successor for your father?” There was a sudden, sharp CRASH from Bob’s direction as his wine glass slipped from his hand. He had it all wrong. I wasn’t there to compete with him. I was there to decide his fate. Smiling, I nodded at the GM. “I have. And my father has already reviewed my choice. He approves.”
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