His Regret, Her Sudden Marriage

Haven Holden POV:

For the next two days, Ewing didn' t come home. It was his classic move-the silent treatment. He' d disappear, cutting off all contact, leaving me to stew in a pot of anxiety and self-doubt. In the past, the silence would have been unbearable. I would have called, texted, left tearful voicemails, convinced that I had done something terribly wrong. Eventually, I would break, apologizing for things that weren' t my fault, just to have him back. And he would return, magnanimous in his forgiveness, perhaps with a small, thoughtless gift, and I would be so grateful for the crumbs of his attention that I would forget the reason we fought in the first place.

My pain was once the leash he used to control me. But now, without love, the pain was gone. And so was his power.

I used his absence to pack. As I sorted through my belongings, I was struck by how little there was. My clothes, a few books, my drafting tools. The rest of the apartment-the furniture, the art on the walls, the mismatched coffee mugs-it was all his. I had moved into his life, his space, and in the process, I had erased myself. I hadn' t bought a new piece of furniture in seven years, hadn' t hung a single picture that he hadn' t approved of. I had stopped being a person and had become an accessory to his life.

The last day of the long weekend arrived. After dropping off my final box at a storage unit, I went to the office and formally submitted my resignation. My supervisor, a kind older woman named Maria, looked at me with concern.

"Are you sure about this, Haven?" she asked, her eyes scanning my face. "Is everything alright? Is it… is it because of the wedding?"

I blinked, confused. "What wedding?"

"Ewing' s," she said, looking surprised. "He applied for a transfer to the New York office a few weeks ago. He said he was getting married and needed to be closer to his fiancée' s family. The transfer was just approved."

The air left my lungs in a silent rush. New York. He was transferring to New York.

"He even put in for a spousal hire," Maria continued, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. "For his fiancée, Bree Campbell. It' s such a shame to lose you, dear. With your talent, you should have been leading projects, not just drafting for Ewing. You always held yourself back for him."

I stared at her, the pieces clicking together with a sickening finality. He had a plan. A whole future mapped out that didn' t include me, except as a backup. A safety net.

If Bree doesn' t work out, I' ll just marry Haven.

His words from the bar echoed in my mind, no longer a drunken boast but a cold, calculated strategy. He was going to give it one last shot with Bree, using the job in New York as a lure. And I was the consolation prize.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I didn' t bother correcting Maria' s misunderstanding. It didn' t matter anymore.

"I' m sure he' ll be very happy," I said, my voice hollow.

That evening, the entire department went out for a farewell dinner for another colleague who was leaving. I went, wanting one last normal night before my life imploded. I had a couple of glasses of wine, feeling the warm buzz loosen the knot of tension in my shoulders.

On my way back from the restroom, I passed a semi-private alcove. I heard Ewing' s voice and froze. He was there with his closest work friend, Mark.

"I just don' t get it, man," Mark was saying. "You had this New York transfer lined up, a golden opportunity. You said it was for Haven, to finally move back near her family."

"It was," Ewing admitted, his voice low. "But then… Bree wanted it. She said she' s always dreamed of working at the headquarters of Vanguard Innovations. Our firm partners with them all the time. She said if I could get her in, she' d… she' d consider us."

"Consider you?" Mark scoffed. "After all this time? And you just gave her the spot? What about Haven?"

"I' m going to give it one last shot with Bree," Ewing said, and the conviction in his voice was like a punch to the gut. "This is my chance. If she says yes, I' ll have everything I' ve ever wanted. And if she doesn' t… well, Haven will still be there. I' ll marry her. She' s a good woman. She' ll understand."

My nails dug into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me. He still thought I would be waiting. He still thought he held all the cards.

Just then, Bree appeared at the entrance to the alcove, a triumphant smirk on her face. She had clearly been listening.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered, her eyes glittering with malice. "He' s all mine. And you know what they say about Vanguard' s CEO, Kasen Coleman? He' s the most eligible bachelor in New York. Once I' m in the company, who knows what could happen."

She looked me up and down, a wave of pity and contempt washing over her features. "You see, Haven, some of us are winners, and some of us are… placeholders. But don' t worry. I won' t let him leave you with nothing. Once I' m settled, you can have him back."

Her victory felt so absolute, so complete, that she couldn't resist one final act of cruelty. As she turned to walk away, she stumbled, letting out a sharp cry and lurching towards me.

Her hand shot out, not to catch herself, but to shove me. Hard.

I stumbled backward, my head hitting the concrete wall with a sickening crack. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and a sharp, metallic taste filled my mouth.

Ewing rushed out of the alcove, his face a mask of alarm. He saw Bree, clutching her arm and wincing in fake pain, and then he saw me, leaning against the wall, a trickle of blood running from my hairline down my temple.

He didn't hesitate.

He pushed past me, his shoulder slamming into mine, and rushed to Bree' s side. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

Bree looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. "She pushed me, Ewing. I was just trying to talk to her, and she went crazy."

His gaze snapped to me, and the concern in his eyes was replaced by pure, unadulterated fury. My head was pounding, the room was spinning, but the cold rage in his eyes cut through the haze.

Without a second thought, I swung my hand and slapped him across the face. The crack echoed in the narrow hallway. A smear of my blood now marked his cheek, a stark red against his pale skin.

"You' ve lost your mind," he spat, his voice trembling with rage. "You' re acting like a damn shrew, Haven."

He took a step back, pulling a whimpering Bree behind him as if protecting her from a wild animal.

"You know what? You were right. We are done," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "And this time, I mean it. Don' t expect me to come crawling back. I won' t be appeasing you anymore."

He turned, his arm protectively around Bree' s shoulders, and guided her back into the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind them with a definitive click.

I stood there for a long moment, the throbbing in my head a dull counterpoint to the hollow ache in my chest. It was a messy, ugly end to a seven-year lie.

But it was an end.

I turned and walked out of the restaurant, not looking back. The cool night air felt good on my face. My head hurt, and my heart felt bruised, but I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that these wounds would heal.

I took a taxi straight to the airport and bought a one-way ticket to New York. As the plane took off, leaving the lights of Denver scattered like discarded jewels below, I didn' t feel sad. I felt a flicker of hope.

Ewing wouldn't look for me. He thought he had won. He had Bree, he had the job in New York. He had everything he wanted.

He had no idea what he had just lost.