The evening sunlight filtered through the restaurant's tall windows, casting golden shadows across the room. Elena Chen sat quietly at the small table for two, her fingers unconsciously smoothing the delicate fabric of her pale-blue dress.
It wasn't just any dress. She had spent hours choosing it, remembering how Damien Ashford had once told her that blue brought out the softness in her eyes. She had thought of everything tonight—her makeup, the way her hair fell in soft waves, even the perfume he loved.
Because tonight matters. Tonight, she was going to ask the question she had been too afraid to voice for weeks: What's happening to us?
Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. 7:25 PM. He was late, as usual.
"Miss, would you like to order now?" the waiter asked politely, breaking the awkward silence.
"No, I'll wait a bit longer," Elena replied, her voice soft but firm.
The waiter nodded and retreated, leaving her alone once again. Elena forced herself to smile, though the corners of her lips trembled. She hated how anxious she felt and hated that her happiness still revolved around him.
Another ten minutes passed before the door to the restaurant swung open. Damien Ashford strode in, his tall frame exuding the confidence that had once made her fall for him. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his sharp features framed by his dark hair.
"Elena," he greeted as he approached the table. His tone was as deep and smooth as ever, but it lacked warmth.
"You're late," she said, forcing a lightness to her voice.
"I got held up," Damien replied dismissively, pulling out the chair across from her. He signaled to the waiter for a drink, his gaze barely settling on her.
Elena's smile faltered. She had hoped—prayed—that he would at least notice the effort she had put in tonight. But Damien's attention was elsewhere, as it had been for weeks now.
The waiter arrived with his drink, and Damien took a slow sip before finally meeting her gaze.
"Elena," he began, his tone unusually formal. "We need to talk."
Her heart sank. The words were heavy, ominous, and they confirmed the fear that had been gnawing at her for days.
"Damien," she started hesitantly, her fingers gripping the edge of her napkin. "What is it? What's wrong?"
He set the glass down with a soft clink, his gray eyes cold and detached. "This isn't working anymore."
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. She stared at him, uncomprehending.
"What... do you mean?" She whispered, her voice trembling.
"I mean us, Elena," Damien said bluntly. "Our relationship. It's over."
The words hit her like a punch to the chest, leaving her breathless. She searched his face for any sign of hesitation, any hint that this was some cruel joke. But Damien's expression was impassive, as though he were discussing a business deal and not the end of their five-year relationship.
"You can't be serious," she said, her voice rising slightly. "After everything we've been through? Damien, we've built a life together!"
He sighed, as if her pain was an inconvenience. "Elena, let's not make this harder than it needs to be. I've already made up my mind."
Her hands trembled in her lap, and she clenched them into fists to steady herself. "You've made up your mind? Without even talking to me? Without giving me a chance to understand what's going on?"
Damien leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "There's nothing to understand. This relationship isn't what I need anymore."
The casual cruelty of his words left her reeling. She thought of all the nights she had stayed up late to support him, the sacrifices she had made to fit into his world, the dreams she had set aside for his sake.
"Not what you need?" she echoed, her voice breaking. "I've been by your side through everything, Damien. When you were struggling to build your company, I was there. When you doubted yourself, I was the one who believed in you. And now you're telling me I'm not enough?"
"I never said you weren't enough," he replied coolly. "But people grow, Elena. We've grown apart."
Her chest tightened as a horrible realization dawned on her. "Is there someone else?"
His expression flickered for the briefest moment—a crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor. He didn't answer, but the silence was louder than any confession.
"Damien," she said, her voice trembling, "look me in the eye and tell me you're not leaving me for someone else."
He shifted uncomfortable, his gaze avoiding hers. "That's irrelevant."
Irrelevant.
Elena's hands gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "I see. So after everything I've done for you, after everything we've been through, I'm just... irrelevant now?"
"Elena, let's not do this," Damien said, his tone sharp. "I've already arranged for a generous settlement. You won't have to worry about anything."
A settlement. He was talking to her as if she were a business transaction, a loose end to be tied up neatly.
"I don't want your money, Damien," she spat, her voice rising. Heads turned in their direction, but she didn't care. "I wanted you. I wanted the man who told me he loved me, who promised me we'd build a future together. But I guess that man doesn't exist anymore."
Damien's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black envelope. "This is for you," he said, sliding it across the table. "It's everything you'll need to start fresh."
Elena stared at the envelope as if it were a snake poised to strike. With a trembling hand, she picked it up and opened it. Inside was a check—a staggering amount that should have felt like a lifeline.
But all she felt was disgust.
"This is what I meant to you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Five years of love, and you think you can pay me off like a business deal?"
"Elena," Damien said, his tone firm, "this is for the best."
Her vision blurred with tears, but she blinked them back. She refused to cry in front of him. Refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he had hurt her.
With a deep breath, she rose from her seat, clutching the check in her hand. "You're right, Damien," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "It is for the best. Because I'm done being a fool for you."
Damien's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing as she turned and walked away.
The cold evening air hit her like a slap as she stepped out of the restaurant. Her hands shook as she pulled her coat tighter around herself, the reality of what had just happened sinking in.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a message from her doctor.
"Ms. Chen, your test results are ready. Please come in tomorrow morning to discuss them."
A chill ran through her, colder than the wind. She had been feeling off for weeks—tired, dizzy, and weaker than usual. But in the chaos of her failing relationship, she had pushed it to the back of her mind.
Now, with Damien's betrayal fresh in her heart, she felt like the universe was piling on.
As she climbed into a taxi, the city lights blurred outside the window, matching the haze of her thoughts. She had lost everything—her love, her dreams, her sense of self.
But as the car pulled up to her apartment, a spark of resolve flickered within her.
Damien Ashford had broken her, but he wouldn't destroy her.
She would face whatever came next alone. And when she rose again—because she would—he would regret ever letting her go.