Damien Sinclair loved tossing the word breakup around like it cost him nothing. The day I stopped was the day he started begging instead. Every time we fought, he'd throw it out. And every time, I came crawling back. Until the day I found a round-trip ticket to Charleston on his phone. The city where his ex-wife lived. I went into his study to ask for an explanation. He didn't even look up from the contract he was signing. "Sophia's been feeling down lately," he said, like it was obvious. "I have a business trip that way. I'll stop by and check on her." Flat. Bored. "Olivia. If you can't give me that much trust, then let's break up." I stared down at the screen in my hand. Then back up at him. Two seconds. "Okay. Let's break up." ...... Damien's pen stilled. He hadn't expected me to agree. He glanced up. Dropped his eyes again. Scrawled his signature with cool, practiced ease. "Suit yourself." I set the phone on his desk and walked out. At the doorway, I closed my eyes for a moment. My chest hurt. But I didn't look back. That night, Damien didn't come to the bedroom. I knew what he was doing. He was waiting. Waiting for me to knock on his study door, red-eyed and trembling. Waiting for me to say the words I'd said a thousand times before. I'm sorry. But this time, I didn't feel like apologizing. The next morning, I dragged my suitcase down the stairs. He was on the phone. When he saw me, he muttered a quick, "OK, see you the day after tomorrow." Hung up. I knew exactly who was on the other end. His eyes dropped to my suitcase. Then climbed back to my face. "Where are you going?" "Moving out." "Moving out?" His mouth curled. "And when are you coming back?" I heard the sneer in it. "I'm not coming back." His brow furrowed. He rubbed his temple, annoyed. "Olivia, don't be dramatic. I'm stopping by on my way. That's all. Is this really worth all the drama?" I looked at him for a long moment. "Yes. It is." Because it wasn't just one ticket. It was a ticket every month. For two years. Flight after flight. All to the same place. Charleston. Sophia Reed. I wasn't making a scene. I was just done. "Since when did you become so petty?" Petty? Maybe. "Yes, Damien. I'm petty." I held his gaze. "That's why I'm agreeing to break up." He hadn't taken me seriously last night. He'd assumed I couldn't bear to let him go. For three years, I was the one who chased. The one who apologized. The one who swallowed her pride. He was used to it. Even my friends thought I was wasting myself on him. Damien's expression hardened. He let out a cold laugh. "Fine. If that's what you want, we're done." So I left. He didn't call. He never did. He never chased anyone. When he came back from Charleston, I went to see him one last time. Damien didn't look surprised. He was sure I'd come back. Sure I'd bend again. Three years, and that was the pattern. He waited for me to soften. But this time, I just took off the ring and held it out. "Here. I'm giving this back."
Damien lowered his eyes. He didn't take it. He laughed under his breath. That familiar, mocking laugh. "Olivia, you're even giving the ring back?" Six months ago, he had surprised me with a proposal. The moment that ring slid onto my finger, I finally felt loved. Truly loved. I'd never taken it off. I'd even slept with it. Damien used to tease me for being dramatic about it. "Yes," I said quietly. "It was never mine to keep." He went still for a beat. Then the corner of his mouth twitched again. "Keep it. Returning it is a hassle." A hassle. What wasn't a hassle to Damien these days? Squeezing in monthly trips to Charleston wasn't a hassle. Remembering his ex-wife's birthday down to the hour. Sending her gifts that arrived precisely on time. That wasn't a hassle either. Dropping every meeting on his desk because she was upset. Leaving me waiting at home with cold dinner on the table. None of that had ever been a hassle. I had never let myself think about it before. I'd told myself: just a little longer. He'll come around. Until I saw everything in his phone. I'd been wrong. No matter how much I lowered myself. No matter how much of me I gave away. There was a place in his heart that had never belonged to me. It belonged to Sophia. "Keep it yourself," I said evenly. "Damien, we're done. For real this time." The smile faded from his face. "Olivia, knock it off." "You really think you can let go?" I set the ring down on the entry console. Once, I wouldn't have been able to. Once, I'd have run after him crying. Even my friends used to ask what was so special about him. What made me keep making myself this small. "Yes," I said softly. He hadn't caught it. "What did you say?" I looked up. Met his eyes. "I said—I'm done." "Damien. We're over." He stared at me for two seconds. Then scoffed. "Fine. Whatever you want." He didn't believe me. I could see it in his face. But it didn't matter anymore. At least I wouldn't have to keep chasing him. At least I wouldn't have to wonder which night he'd fly to her again. ...... Damien and Sophia had grown up together. Everyone thought they were perfect for each other. No one expected them to get divorced. Damien just said it was amicable. No reason. They just weren't right for each other. When I'd first moved in, I'd seen their wedding photos. I'd also seen Sophia. In person. Damien was working late that night. I was home alone when I heard the fingerprint lock click. I thought it was him. But when I stood up, I saw a pair of unfamiliar, beautiful eyes. She'd blinked, startled. Then she'd smiled. "I'm sorry—I didn't realize Damien had a girlfriend." By that point, Damien and I had been together for nearly two years. He'd never told her I existed. I left the ring on the desk and turned to leave. Then a soft, familiar voice came from inside the house. "Damien, who's at the door?"
For once, Damien looked genuinely flustered. Before he could answer, she walked out. The woman he flew across the country to see every month. Sophia Reed. I hadn't expected him to bring her into the home we once shared. The moment I moved out, he moved her in. Sophia noticed the ring on the entry table and picked it up naturally. "Wait—isn't this the one you gave me? What's it doing here?" I froze. I watched Damien avoid my eyes. And in that moment, I felt how ridiculous I really was. The ring I had treasured for six months. The one I never took off. It was never meant for me. It was the ring he had given his ex-wife. The one she returned to him. The one he then passed to me like a hand-me-down. Damien opened his mouth. No explanation came. Sophia didn't notice anything wrong. She slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. No wonder it was always loose on me. From the beginning, that ring was never made for me. "Damien, look, it still fits." She smiled at him. Then seemed to remember I was there. She turned to me with an innocent look. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" Damien glanced at me. "No," he said quietly. "You're Damien's girlfriend, right?" She smiled at me again. "We've met before." "You two have met?" Damien frowned at me. I didn't answer. I turned and left. ...... That night, my phone rang. It was him. In three years of fighting, I had always been the one to reach out first. This was the first time he had ever called me. I answered. Said nothing. The silence stretched. I was about to hang up when his voice finally came through. Flat. Controlled. "Sophia's apartment was broken into recently. She doesn't feel safe staying there alone. I told her she could stay in the guest room until things are sorted out. Once the apartment is secured, she'll move out." He could have put her up in a hotel. He could have hired security. But he chose to let his ex-wife live with him. I gripped the phone. Something cold settled in my chest. "Is there anything else?" I asked. "If not, I'm hanging up." "Olivia, do we really need to do this?" His voice dropped lower. Edged with that familiar impatience. "What are you actually trying to prove?" "Nothing." I just didn't want to do this anymore. I heard a lighter flick on the other end. He was lighting a cigarette. "You're ending things over a plane ticket?" "Damien, is it really just a plane ticket?" I asked softly. He went quiet. There was no rule that said two divorced people had to disappear from each other's lives. If it had been one ticket, I would have let it go. But it wasn't one ticket. It was every month. For two years. And those were just the trips I knew about. What I couldn't accept wasn't that he saw her. It was that he had always put her ahead of me. "Olivia, do you have to be this petty?" His voice thinned with the irritation I knew too well. "She's alone over there. Is it really a crime for me to check on her?" "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd overreact." I said nothing. He could see whoever he wanted. That was his right. I wasn't being petty. I just couldn't keep doing this to myself. He hadn't even bothered to buy a new ring. Hadn't bothered to explain. Just expected me to swallow it, smile, and forgive— Because I always had. I opened my mouth to speak. And from his end, a soft voice cut through the line. "Damien? You're still up?" He went silent instantly. In the second before he hung up, the question I'd been carrying for months finally rose to my lips: "Damien, if you had never met me… would you have remarried her?"
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