For once, Gloria had nothing to say.
Kayla quietly apologized.
Said Ethan had told her I was happy to help.
That we had agreed.
I only partly believed her.
But I no longer cared enough to punish her.
Her choices were hers now.
That night, I walked back into my apartment.
Closed the door.
And felt the strangest silence.
Like the air itself finally belonged to me.
I didn’t cry.
I poured a glass of wine.
Kicked off my heels.
And sat at the same table where, only twenty-four hours earlier, I had imagined celebrating.
The promotion was still mine.
The success was still mine.
And finally—
so was my peace.
Over the following days, everyone heard the story.
Some people called me heartless.
Others called me brave.
Most privately admitted Ethan had spent years living off my discipline while mocking my ambition.
He tried finding sympathy.
But numbers don’t lie.
Neither do dates.
Two weeks later, I signed the updated lease.
Accepted my promotion officially.
And celebrated with my team over dinner.
