There were only two seats left at the company dinner. One was in the far corner beside the service station, and the other was next to the man I had secretly loved for three years.
Chapter 2
The next morning, Capri became the center of the break room.
“You stayed at Mr. Locke’s?”
“Those pajamas are matching.”
“I knew something was happening.”
Capri laughed.
“Stop. Nothing happened.”
Someone pointed out that Julian had personally brought her into the company on her first day.
Someone else mentioned the new afternoon snacks that appeared after Capri nearly fainted from low blood sugar.
I stood outside the break room listening.
I had actually been the one who fainted that day.
Capri had complained she felt dizzy too.
Julian walked past me on the floor and caught her elbow.
Later, when I confronted him, he said, “You’re my girlfriend. You know I care about you. Capri doesn’t have anyone here.”
Now my coworkers treated every kindness he showed her like evidence of romance.
Maybe they were right.
Martin from HR rushed into the room.
“I’ve got news.”
Everyone turned.
“I heard Mr. Locke talking to a jeweler. Somebody’s getting engaged.”
Cheers exploded.
Capri’s cheeks turned pink.
Then Martin added, “And the promotion list came through. Team Two is getting a new leader.”
Someone clapped Capri on the shoulder.
“Congratulations, future Mrs. Locke.”
I walked away.
Laura in HR called me into her office that afternoon.
“I received your resignation.”
“Yes.”
She took off her glasses.
“Suzanne, your performance scores are excellent. You’re one of the strongest analysts we have.”
“Then why have I never been promoted?”
She hesitated.
That was enough.
“Every year,” I continued, “HR recommends me.”
“Yes.”
“And every year Julian rejects it.”
Laura sighed.
“He always cites something small. Leadership visibility. Client presence. Communication style.”
I smiled bitterly.
For three years, Julian had kept me invisible.
Then used my invisibility to justify holding me back.
“I’m leaving.”
“You could talk to him.”
“I’ve spent three years talking to him.”
That afternoon, Julian called a staff meeting.
A report prepared by Team Two contained major data errors.
Julian stood at the front of the room.
“Suzanne, you’re acting team lead.”
“Temporarily.”
“Leadership means responsibility.”
I looked at the screen.
Capri had built the faulty section.
Julian knew it.
He continued.
“You’ll lose one month’s performance bonus. Capri will assume the acting team leader role.”
Around the room, several people exchanged excited looks.
Capri lowered her eyes modestly.
I almost laughed.
Afterward, Julian summoned me.
“Do you have a problem with my decision?”
“No, Mr. Locke.”
His eyes narrowed.
I had never called him that in private.
“Capri made the error,” he said. “But you were responsible for oversight.”
“Understood.”
He leaned back.
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to argue?”
“No.”
His expression shifted, faintly unsettled.
He had no idea I had already resigned.
Outside his office, Capri approached holding a paper cup.
“Peace offering.”
“What is it?”
“Almond latte.”
I stared at her.
She knew.
I had suffered a severe almond reaction in college. She had once sat beside me in an emergency room while my throat swelled nearly closed.
“You know I’m allergic.”
Her eyes widened theatrically.
“Oh my God, Susie. I forgot.”
Two coworkers looked over.
She raised her voice slightly.
“I feel terrible. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not.”
I walked to my desk.
Then I pulled a cardboard box from underneath it.
Capri followed.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning.”
I packed my ceramic robin mug, desk calendar, notebooks, and the small cactus that had survived three years beneath fluorescent lights.
Her gaze flickered with satisfaction.
“You don’t have to move desks today.”
“I’m not moving desks.”
She frowned.
I didn’t explain.
That evening, Julian texted.
Entertaining clients. Don’t wait up. Review the Capri handover protocols.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I stood inside the penthouse we had shared for 840 days.
I had painted the kitchen walls.
Chosen the rugs.
Hung the curtains.
Bought the cast-iron pans.
Filled cedar blocks into drawers because Julian hated chemical moth repellents.
Yet standing there with an empty suitcase, I realized how little of the place actually belonged to me.
My clothes occupied less than a third of the closet.
I packed everything in forty minutes.
Then my hand brushed something behind Julian’s cashmere scarves.
A midnight-blue jewelry box.
My heartbeat stumbled.
Martin had been right.
I opened it.
Inside sat a magnificent oval diamond ring.
For one pathetic second, hope rose inside me.
Maybe he had planned everything.
Maybe he was finally going to stop hiding me.
Then I saw the engraving.
To my sweetest harbor.
Capri loved calling herself “a harbor girl” because she had grown up near the marina.
I checked the appraisal sheet.
Ring size: 4.5.
Mine was a six.
Capri’s hands were tiny.
I closed the box.
No tears came.
No shaking.
Only clarity.
I put the ring back.
Then I laid my spare key on the kitchen island beside my building access card.
I placed my company badge beside them.
At five the next afternoon, my resignation became final.
I walked out of Locke Logistics without saying goodbye.
