Chapter 3: Nothing Left to Wait For

For the first time in seven years, my Monday morning didn't begin inside Wantrell Corporation.

Instead, sunlight filtered through the curtains of my apartment while I sat on the living room floor surrounded by cardboard boxes.

The silence felt unfamiliar.

Peaceful.

No unread work emails.

No emergency meetings.

No messages from Molly asking me to finish her assignments.

No orders from Derrick.

Only silence.

I wrapped a ceramic coffee mug in newspaper before placing it inside a box labeled Kitchen.

The apartment suddenly felt much larger than before.

Perhaps because it had never really belonged to me.

Although I had lived there for almost four years, Derrick had chosen nearly everything.

The furniture.

The paintings.

The curtains.

Even the coffee machine had been his choice.

I had simply moved into his world.

Now I was quietly moving out of it.

My phone buzzed on the table.

It was my younger cousin, Chloe.

"Please tell me you've finally resigned," she said the moment I answered.

I laughed softly.

"News travels fast."

"Ethan called me yesterday."

"Traitor."

"No," Chloe corrected. "A worried friend."

She paused before asking gently, "How are you really doing?"

I looked around the apartment.

There should have been sadness.

Instead...

I felt strangely relieved.

"I'm tired," I admitted.

"Not heartbroken?"

"Maybe I already finished grieving while we were still together."

There was silence on the other end.

"You deserve so much better than Derrick," Chloe whispered.

"I know."

"Then promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't go back just because he apologizes."

I smiled sadly.

"Let's see if he even notices I'm gone first."

After hanging up, I continued packing.

Near the back of my wardrobe sat a large black storage box.

Inside were memories I hadn't touched in years.

Movie tickets.

Birthday cards.

Photographs.

The first fountain pen Derrick had ever bought me.

There was even a tiny paper cup from the coffee shop where we had confessed our feelings for each other.

Seven years.

Carefully preserved inside one dusty box.

I picked up a photograph.

We looked so young.

Derrick stood beside me wearing a wrinkled white shirt after an overnight project presentation.

His arm rested naturally around my shoulders.

We were laughing.

Back then, his smile reached his eyes.

I remembered that version of him.

The ambitious young manager who skipped dinner just to help interns finish reports.

The man who once stood outside my apartment in the rain because we had argued over something ridiculous.

The man who promised me...

"One day I'll build a company big enough that you'll never have to worry about anything again."

He kept that promise.

He built the company.

Somewhere along the way...

He simply forgot about me.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

The moving company had arrived.

Within two hours, nearly everything had been packed into the truck.

Before leaving, I walked through each room one final time.

Empty walls.

Bare shelves.

No photographs remained.

No traces of the life we had built together.

Only one thing was left.

The engagement ring resting inside its velvet box.

I carried it to the bedroom.

The dressing table mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized.

She looked exhausted.

Older than thirty.

Not because of age.

Because of disappointment.

I slowly slipped the ring onto my finger one last time.

Its diamond sparkled beautifully beneath the morning light.

"You picked this yourself," Derrick had said when he proposed.

"I wanted something that would last forever."

Forever.

Such an easy word to say.

Such a difficult promise to keep.

I removed the ring again and closed the velvet box.

This time...

Without hesitation.

That afternoon, I met Ethan for coffee.

He arrived carrying a folder.

"I thought you might need these," he said.

Inside were recommendation letters.

One from him.

One from the finance director.

One from the board's vice chairman.

"You asked them?" I asked, surprised.

"I didn't have to." Ethan smiled. "They volunteered."

Emotion tightened my throat.

"Thank you."

"You're one of the best strategists I've ever worked with, Yara."

"Apparently not according to Derrick."

"Derrick stopped seeing talent a long time ago."

He stirred his coffee thoughtfully.

"Do you know what's interesting?"

"What?"

"Ever since you left, three departments have called asking where certain files are."

"I organized everything before resigning."

"Exactly."

He leaned forward.

"They weren't looking for files."

"Then what?"

"They were looking for the person who always knew where everything was."

I smiled quietly.

Not proudly.

Simply... peacefully.

For years, I had believed my work went unnoticed.

Perhaps I had only been invisible to one person.

"Have you thought about where you'll work next?" Ethan asked.

"Not seriously."

"Good."

"Why good?"

He slid a business card across the table.

"Someone asked me about you yesterday."

The logo belonged to Vanguard Holdings.

Wantrell's biggest competitor.

"Their executive director is expanding the strategy division," Ethan explained.

"He heard you've resigned."

"Already?"

"Good employees rarely stay unemployed for long."

I tucked the card into my handbag.

"I'll think about it."

"Just promise me one thing."

"Another promise?"

"Choose the place that values you... not the place you're used to."

His words stayed with me long after we left the café.

That evening, I drove to my new apartment.

It was much smaller than Derrick's luxury penthouse.

No city skyline.

No marble floors.

No expensive decorations.

Just clean white walls and large windows overlooking a quiet neighborhood park.

For the first time in years...

The space felt completely mine.

I unpacked only the essentials.

A mattress.

A kettle.

A few books.

My laptop.

It wasn't much.

But somehow...

It felt like freedom.

Before going to bed, I opened my phone.

There were still no messages from Derrick.

Not one.

He hadn't called.

Hadn't texted.

Hadn't even asked HR where I had gone.

I quietly opened our conversation.

The last message came from him.

"Come to my office after lunch."

I stared at it for several seconds.

Then...

I pressed Delete Conversation.

The screen returned to normal.

Just like that.

Seven years of messages disappeared.

Across the country, Derrick and Molly arrived at another luxury hotel after a successful client dinner.

"Yara still hasn't called?" Molly asked casually while stepping out of the elevator.

Derrick frowned.

"No."

"Maybe she's finally learned her lesson."

"She'll call."

"You're confident."

"She always does."

He unlocked his hotel room and tossed his phone onto the bed without checking it.

He never noticed...

The contact named 'Yara ❤️' had already disappeared from the top of his recent conversations.

Because this time...

She wasn't waiting for him to come home.