Caylee Jenkins had just walked inside when a set of divorce papers was thrown straight at her.
"Sign this. It's over between us."
Brett Griffiths's tone was cold and cutting, his eyes filled with nothing but loathing.
The words hit her like a slap out of nowhere, leaving her breath caught in her throat. "Why?" she whispered.
"You seriously don't get it?" His laugh was almost cruel. "Caylee, I used to believe you were gentle, even pure. But look at you, you're poisonous. So eaten up with jealousy you'd go as far as destroying Stacey's hand? How could you!"
Brett closed the space between them in a few hard strides, his fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him. "The people you hired to cause trouble at the recital are already behind bars. If you don't want the same fate, you'd better be smart and sign."
Caylee parted her lips to deny the accusation, but one look at his icy expression told her there was no point. He wouldn't believe a single word.
Ever since Stacey Holden, Brett's first love, came back three months ago, Caylee had been framed again and again. And every single time, Brett refused to believe her.
"Fine. Divorce it is. But just answer one thing-these past three years, did you ever care about me, even once?" Her voice trembled.
"Not once."
The word sliced straight through her, clean and merciless. Air rushed out of her lungs, leaving a hollow ache that spread through her chest.
"I understand."
Her lashes dipped, hiding the crack in her expression. By the time she raised her eyes again, her face looked calm, as though nothing had broken inside her. "I bought groceries earlier. Let's share one last dinner and call it a farewell meal."
Brett's brows pulled together. He was about to turn her down, but the redness around her eyes gave him pause, softening his stance for just a second.
"Alright."
The concession had barely left his mouth when his phone rang. He checked the screen and picked up immediately.
"Brett, I need to see you. Can you come to Griffiths Group?" The sweet, cloying voice on the line was loud enough for Caylee to catch every word.
Her heart sank as Brett's expression melted, his tone turning gentle in a way she had never once received. "Of course. I'll be right there. Wait for me."
Her eyes lost their light. So this was the line between being loved and being ignored.
As he turned to go, she instinctively caught his sleeve. But he pulled free at once, without hesitation.
"That's enough, Caylee."
Caylee stood frozen, watching his back fade from sight. The tears she had been holding in spilled over, streaking her face. Her palm pressed hard against her chest, as if that could dull the stabbing ache inside her.
Three years ago, she had been in a car crash. Brett, by pure chance, had been there and pulled her out. From then on, she saw him as her savior.
Around the same time, his family was pressing him to marry, and he turned to Caylee with a proposal. She didn't hesitate and said yes without a second thought.
Their relationship had always been civil, almost cold. He kept his distance and never crossed the line of closeness. But for her, being near him had been enough.
At least, it was... until three months ago, when Stacey returned.
The quiet in the living room broke when her phone buzzed sharply.
Her heart jumped. She thought it might be Brett. But the number was unfamiliar. Then the pictures appeared one after another-Stacey in his arms, smiling, clinging to him as if no one else belonged there.
A text came right after. "Brett has always loved me. Stop embarrassing yourself by hanging on."
Caylee's grip tightened around the phone. The images burned into her chest like blades sawing through bone.
She wasn't the kind to beg. If Brett didn't love her, then there was no reason to hold on.
She picked up the pen, scrawled her name across the divorce papers, and didn't hesitate once.
Right after, she opened her laptop. Her hands moved quickly, pulling up a hidden site. She logged in, clicked on a familiar icon, and typed, "I want every piece of evidence from the recital incident where Stacey claimed she was injured."
The reply came back in seconds. "On it!"
And another, almost bubbling with excitement. "Boss! You finally came back online! It's been three years. I've missed you like mad! Does this mean we're taking jobs again?"
Her response was curt. "Yes."
And before the flood of messages could pour in, she logged out.
Packing didn't take long. From the safe, she retrieved a unique mask and ran her fingers along its shape. She had once held onto it after the crash, thinking it tied her fate to Brett.
She used to picture forever with him. But now, it was clear that he didn't want her anymore.
She had spent three years repaying what she owed. That debt was finished, and it was time to step back into her old life.
She dropped the mask into the trash. If she had decided to let go, then everything had to go. The man. The memories. Even the mementos. All of it.