Simp No More, Thanks

I took a breath, ice-cold. "Shayne, stop. Stay out of my work—and out of my life."

His gaze held for a beat... then finally dropped.

Vanessa yanked him off, but not without throwing me one of those smug, I-win smiles.

Andy looked like he wanted to speak up, but in the end, he just walked away.

The Chat Feed exploded:

[Ahhh! Shay-Shay's just jealous! He still loves her! Asking for the money back was just his way of getting her to talk to him again!]

[Ley doesn't get it—Shay-Shay's all bark, no bite. He's already humbled himself so much and she STILL won't give him a shot? Like, yeah, he says dumb stuff, but what guy doesn't have some pride?]

[Ley's getting way too full of herself. It's lowkey annoying. She's gonna regret losing someone as loyal as Shay.]

I sank back into my seat, face unreadable, and took a sip of my coffee.

Bitter.

Just like the last eight years.

Mr. Cadwell looked a little shaken. "Ms. Landon, are you alright?"

I shook it off, pulled on my best corporate smile. "Sorry you had to see that. Let's get back to business."

He slid the transfer papers over. I didn't even blink—just signed.

The pen scratched across the page like slicing clean through eight years of my life.

"The Selvora branch is yours now," he said, patting my shoulder. "And if things ever get tough—work or otherwise—HQ's got your back."

"I'll be fine," I said, calm and steady. "I'll report in the day after tomorrow."

Booked my flight for tomorrow night. Then headed back to the hotel.

The Chat Feed just wouldn't quit:

[Don't be sad, Ley-Bae. Shay-Shay really DOES love you. He just sucks at showing it.]

[Yeah, yeah, he didn't grow up with love. You need to be more understanding.]

Understanding?

Hadn't I already done enough of that?

I had a 102℉ fever, couldn't even sit up.

Shayne blocked me because I didn't reply while he was working late.

It was Pudding—sweet, frantic Pudding—who barked like crazy and pawed at the neighbor's door until someone got me to the hospital.

What a freaking joke.

I grabbed my phone, opened the gallery.

Our old lock screen photo—both of us smiling like love was enough.

Reality check?

I exhaled slow, hit delete.

Then I just let go, collapsing into bed as the tears finally came.

Pudding jumped up, licking my face like he was trying to patch me back together.

I clung to him, burying my face in his fur.

Eight years gone—it burned.

But deep down, I knew:

A clean cut hurts less than a slow bleed.

I cried until I knocked out.

In my dream, we were back in college.

Shayne still had that warm, goofy smile.

He used to run all over Monterra hunting for heating pad when I had cramps.

Used to stay up all night just so I wouldn't fail another econ final.

So when did it all flip?

Maybe it was the first time he blocked me.

Or the first time I said sorry just to end his silent treatment.

Maybe it was when I stopped being me and turned into whoever he needed.

Yeah.

I'd simped long enough.

I was done.

The next morning, I took one last lap around Monterra—my home for eight years, and the place I was finally leaving behind.

The sun was warm, streets familiar. Pudding trotted beside me.