Chapter 10 Logic Over Love

Liana Carter stared at the flickering cursor on her laptop screen, its steady blink a mocking heartbeat in the quiet of her new apartment. The silence pressed against her ears, a dull roar louder than any city noise. It had been a week since she walked out of Ryan's life-and her old one. A week since she packed what remained of her dignity, quit her job after a humiliating "restructuring," and swore to never, ever let emotion blind her again.

Now, here she was. Alone, unemployed, bruised but breathing.

She took a slow sip from her chipped coffee mug-black coffee, no cream, no sugar. Sweetness had lost its appeal lately.

The apartment was half-unpacked, with boxes still lining the walls like unopened chapters of a life she wasn't sure she wanted to revisit. Her furniture was minimal: a secondhand couch, a desk from her college days, and a bed that creaked every time she shifted. But it was hers. No shared space. No reminders of him. Just clean walls and silence-both of which she intended to fill with purpose.

Her phone buzzed. She didn't look.

She already knew who it was.

Ryan: I miss you. Please, just talk to me.

Liana let out a bitter breath, her thumb hovering over the screen. The text blurred for a second, and she realized her eyes were stinging again. Not from sadness this time. From frustration.

He'd cheated. Lied. Taken her trust and twisted it like a towel, squeezing out everything soft until there was nothing left but resentment and shame. And now he wanted to talk?

She hit "block" and set the phone face down. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

She was done letting love dictate the direction of her life. Logic was safer. Predictable. It didn't crumble under pressure or kiss you in the morning only to betray you by night.

Love had cost her too much: her peace, her job, her self-worth. From now on, ambition would be her partner. She would rise again-not for revenge, not for some future partner to admire her-but for herself.

She pulled open a new spreadsheet and began mapping out ideas. Projects. Goals. Startups she'd always daydreamed about but never pursued because Ryan thought they were "too risky." Her fingers moved faster with each passing minute. Budget tabs, timelines, marketing angles-it all fell into place. This was where she thrived. Where she didn't have to feel.

She didn't hear the knock at first. It was faint, almost unsure. The second one was louder. She hesitated, heart skipping-not because of fear, but because for a second, she thought: What if it's him?

But it wasn't.

It was Jasmine, her friend and former coworker, holding Thai takeout and wearing an apologetic smile.

"I figured you forgot to eat again," Jasmine said, nudging her way inside. "And I wasn't going to let you wither away on spreadsheets and black coffee."

Liana sighed, but she didn't fight her. Jasmine had a knack for knowing when she needed saving-even from herself.

They sat on the floor, cartons spread between them, chopsticks clinking as they ate in silence for a while.

"You look... better," Jasmine finally said. "Stronger. Like you're done crying."

"I am done crying," Liana said simply.

Jasmine nodded. "You know, there's nothing wrong with being soft. You don't have to be a fortress."

Liana paused mid-bite, then set her chopsticks down. "I'm not trying to be a fortress. I just-I need to rebuild with things I can count on. Things that don't lie or cheat or disappear the moment I need them."

"Like Excel formulas?"

Liana cracked a smile despite herself. "Exactly."

Jasmine grew serious. "I just don't want you to lose the part of yourself that loved. That felt."

"She made bad choices," Liana replied softly. "She trusted the wrong people. She saw red flags and called them character flaws. She excused too much and called it loyalty. That version of me? She needs to go."

"She didn't deserve what happened," Jasmine said.

"No. But she let it happen longer than she should have."

There it was. The truth. A jagged edge buried under months of denial. She couldn't rewrite the past-but she could control the next chapter.

After Jasmine left, Liana stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself. The city lights pulsed in the distance, soft golds and hard whites against the inky blue of the sky. Somewhere out there, people were falling in love. Forgiving. Starting over.

She wasn't one of them.

Not yet.

The world expected women to heal quickly and move on. To forgive, to find someone new, to pretend love wasn't a war zone. But Liana refused to follow that script.

Tonight, she chose differently.

She walked to her desk and printed something she'd written earlier that day-a single-page mission plan for a new consulting firm. She taped it above her desk like a declaration:

CARTER STRATEGIES

Built on logic. Powered by ambition. Fueled by clarity.

No room for distractions. No space for apologies.

Her heart had been a battlefield. Her mind would now be her map.

And if, someday, love knocked again?

It would have to wait at the door until it proved it belonged.

She shut her laptop, switched off the light, and crawled into bed-alone, and finally okay with that.

Because for the first time in months, Liana Carter wasn't waiting to be chosen.

She was choosing herself.