Our Love Blew up Like Fireworks

By the time the negotiations were nearly over, the other side had already agreed to our deal. Then, Gerald suddenly rushed in, insisting on toasting our partner, Mr. Howard Shaw.

Mr. Shaw was already scowling with irritation, yet Gerald seemed completely oblivious.

As a new intern had just walked in, he actually forced Mr. Shaw to drink with him. I had no idea where he got the nerve.

Mr. Shaw got angry. I held him back and plastered a smile, apologizing to Mr. Shaw on his behalf.

I made him take three drinks as punishment, but he suddenly shouted, "Julian, I'm just an intern, but that doesn't mean you can push me around!"

Lindsey's face darkened like she could kill, and I thought it was because the deal, which should have gone through, had fallen apart. I hadn't expected it was because I had made Gerald apologize and drink those three shots.

I was exhausted. "I really didn't cause a scene, Lindsey. Let's break up."

With that, I ignored her stormy expression, packed my things, and left the office.

Back home, I started packing my suitcase again. Breaking up came with its own hassles—there were too many things, and packing took forever.

Suddenly, my hand froze. In the drawer lay a shirt that wasn't mine, smothered in kiss marks that betrayed the wearer's eager passion.

I tossed the shirt in the trash and took a quick photo to send to Lindsey.

She kept sending me texts to explain, but I ignored them and dialed another number.

"Didn't you say you wanted to climb the ladder?"

On the other end, Jessie Hartwell screamed with excitement. She had offered to help me pack, but I refused. If Lindsey saw her, a conflict might erupt. It was better to avoid unnecessary trouble.

I still had a condo on the west side of the city. Once this month's bonus came in, I could pay off the mortgage completely. Finally, I would have a place to call my own. The thought brought me a surprising sense of warmth.

The doorbell rang just then. I thought it was the movers, but when I opened the door, it was Lindsey.

I froze, wondering if I was seeing things. Last year, when my appendix flared and I nearly passed out at home, I had called her to take me to the hospital.

She had been completely indifferent. "I'm at work, Julian. You're an adult. Can't you handle a simple 911 call?"

Yet last week, when Gerald accidentally spilled warm water on his hand at the office and cried out, she hugged him in public and personally drove him to the hospital.

She never left work early, except for Gerald. Only he could make her break her own rules.

I hadn't expected to be the lucky exception today.

She glanced at the packed suitcase, and for a split second, a trace of panic crossed her face.

"What is this? Are you trying to make a scene or force me to yield by breaking up with you? I already sent you a message. That shirt belongs to Gerald. He left it at our place by accident.

"The day he got caught in the rain, I had him come up for some warm tea. His shirt got ruined, so he changed before leaving."

I narrowed my eyes as I recalled the incident.

That had been two weeks ago when I was on a business trip abroad. On my return, I got caught in a heavy rainstorm and asked Lindsey to pick me up. She said she was working late and told me to take a taxi myself.

When I got home, I noticed the unfinished ginger tea on the coffee table. I had assumed she made it for me, but it turned out I had just picked up what someone else had left behind.

Lindsey's expression grew slightly awkward as she thought of that.

"Don't read too much into it."

I shook my head calmly. "I'm not. It doesn't matter anymore."

Lindsey stared at me for a long time with a strange look. After a while, she hesitantly asked, "Why aren't you mad?"