Part 7

Just before I was about to leave, the vice president of the company called.

"Lucas, are you really resigning?"

"Yes."

His voice became increasingly frantic.

"What about the project? You know Ms. Johnson doesn't handle things herself, and if this project fails, it could be disastrous for the company!"

"Sorry," I sighed. "I've already secured the project. When and how it's executed is now your responsibility."

"But—"

"The company doesn't belong to just one person! It will continue without me."

I interrupted him.

The vice president hesitated, then let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Well, Lucas, I've always considered it a privilege to work with you. I hope we can collaborate again in the future."

I didn't respond—just a few perfunctory words before hanging up.

I had made my decision. I wasn't interested in keeping any ties to the company that Amanda controlled.

That night, I slept more peacefully than I had in a long time.

I no longer had to worry about Amanda's late-night socializing, her moods, or the constant turmoil at work.

The next morning, I was woken by the shrill ring of my phone.

I answered it, and Amanda's angry voice came through loud and clear.

"Lucas! What do you think you're doing?! The project you're handling is about to be signed in a few days! You'd better be there on time!"

I rubbed my eyes and groggily held the phone away from my ear.

Once she finally paused to catch her breath, I replied slowly, "Ms. Johnson, you really have a knack for forgetting things, don't you?"

"If I remember correctly, I resigned yesterday—and you agreed to it."

"So, why would the project still be my concern?"

"Lucas!"

Amanda's voice shot up in volume, full of anger and warning.

"I'm warning you—don't make me take drastic measures. I've accepted your resignation, but the handover hasn't been completed. If you don't show up, I have every right to take legal action!"

I wasn't intimidated by her threats. I coldly retorted, "Don't think you can pressure me with that. If you'd actually bothered to read my resignation letter, you wouldn't be wasting your breath."

With that, I hung up the phone.

Grabbing my luggage, I prepared to leave the house that had been my prison for the past five years.

Just as I stepped outside, Amanda's car came speeding down the road.

She got out, and when she saw the suitcase in my hand, her face tightened with confusion.

"What are you doing with your luggage? Where do you think you're going?"

I remained expressionless, speaking in a tone that was chillingly flat.

"Just going out to clear my head."

Her frown deepened as she muttered, almost to herself.

"At a time like this, you're thinking about going on vacation? You really don't want to work anymore, do you? Get to the office this afternoon. There's a ton of stuff you need to handle!"

"Yeah, I know," I replied with a slight nod, though inwardly, I was filled with mockery.

Her obsession with face and status—was that really all that mattered to her?

My resolve only strengthened.

There was no love left to hold onto. It was better to let go sooner than drag this out any longer.

Amanda went back inside, and a few minutes later, she came back out, holding a file.

"How can you sit around all day while the place looks like this? It's a total mess!"

She scolded me for a few more seconds before turning and leaving without a second glance.

I knew she hadn't noticed the divorce papers on the table.

Her mind was so far removed from this home that she couldn't even care about the details.

I stood there, watching her car drive away, the weight of the moment settling in.

It was as if even the heavens couldn't bear the sight of this anymore.

Suddenly, the sky darkened, and the wind picked up as the storm broke loose. Rain poured down in torrents, as though nature itself was trying to wash away the dirt and grime of a love that had once been pure but had now turned into nothing but a scarred memory.

"Great, just what I needed."

I found no romance in the sudden storm. With a sigh, I opened my umbrella and slowly walked away, ready to leave everything behind.