Simp No More, Thanks

That's when it hit me—he could love someone. He could protect her.

Eight years with him, and not once did he ever do that for me.

Pudding curled up by my feet, those big, worried eyes locked on me.

I ran my fingers over his head. Tears slipped down, hot and sharp like they were trying to leave scars.

Still, I muttered, "It's fine. It's done."

I didn't need saving—I could handle better solo.

Then my phone lit up.

[Ms. Landon, are you available tonight at 8 PM? Elysium Lounge. I'd like to discuss the Selvora branch lead position with you.]

—Mr. Cadwell, HR Director.

I shook my head, ditching the emotional junk.

Quick rinse, makeup on, bag over my shoulder—I was out.

Elysium Lounge had that chill, lowlight vibe.

Mr. Cadwell was already there, standing the second he saw me. "Ms. Landon. Long time."

I slid into the seat across from him and ordered an iced Americano.

He got right to it—offering me the lead role at the new Selvora branch. We were just getting into the juicy details when—

"Leyla Landon!"

Cue the chaos.

Shayne yanked my wrist hard enough to snap something.

Eyes wild, voice shredded.

"You're really leaving me—for HIM?!"

Mr. Cadwell blinked. "Sir, I think you're misunderstanding—"

"Misunderstanding?" Shayne's laugh was pure chaos, eyes unhinged.

Next thing I knew, he had Mr. Cadwell by the collar, fist cocked.

"Shayne!" I jumped up, wedging myself between them. "Haven't you done enough? You literally told me to disappear. Said we were done. So what is THIS?"

And because things weren't messy enough—enter his buddy—Andy.

"Leyla," he huffed, already in attack mode, "if we hadn't been here chillin', Shayne would've stayed clueless. The guy's been wrecking himself over you, and what do you do? Use him up and bounce to the next?"

I shot Shayne a look. "That what you told them?"

He couldn't even meet my eyes. Classic.

"We were together EIGHT YEARS," I said, voice shaking. "From houses to takeout, I paid my share—even when everything was under your name.

"I once had fifty bucks to my name, and when you said, 'Let's split the soup'? I didn't blink.

"Our total shared living costs? You didn't even break $6K. And after we broke up, you demanded it all back—so I paid. Every. Cent."

I stepped in. He backed off.

"Wasn't that enough for you? And now you drag your crew in here to blow things up? What are you trying to prove?"

Shayne's fist stopped mid-swing.

Breathing hard, but still couldn't meet my eyes.

Andy and Mr. Cadwell just stood there, jaws basically on the floor.

Then—heels, fast and furious—Vanessa barged in.

Vanessa gasped, all fake-shocked. "Leyla! If Andy hadn't called, I wouldn't have known you'd already moved on. No wonder you dumped Shayne outta nowhere."

She latched onto Shayne's arm like some cloying perfume ad. "Shayne, let it go. Don't ruin her date. Just move on—you'll thank yourself later."

His eyes flashed with pain, but he kept staring at me, like I owed him something.