My arms were still crossed when he stepped closer, lips stained, collar creased. He had the audacity to smile.
“What’s that mark on your neck?” I asked, voice cold but casual.
James blinked, then rubbed his neck as if only now realizing it was there. “Oh. That? Mosquito bite. I stepped out to the emergency exit to get some fresh air and… you know how it is.”
A mosquito, huh?
I glanced at the pattern of red splotches—definitely not from a bug. Hickeys. Deep. Purposeful.
He didn’t even try to lie well.
Before I could respond, he quickly changed the topic.
“Anyway, we should go. It’s not good to be seen together too much here. Office dating and all… It’s not allowed.”
I didn’t say a word. Just nodded.
He exhaled in relief, clearly mistaking my silence for ignorance or forgiveness. “Let’s see each other later, yeah? Have a little date? Just the two of us.” He kissed my cheek like nothing happened and walked away, whistling.
I stayed behind, staring at the spot where he had stood, the back of my neck buzzing.
Later that afternoon, the conference room was filled. A meeting with upper management. Everyone was there—board members, senior staff, trainees, even Amber, who sat too close to James.
James, who had a position thanks to me.
James, who truly believed he’d earned it all on his own. I took a seat near the back. Out of sight, but not out of reach.
The room dimmed. James stood at the front with a clicker and smug confidence. "Today, I’ll present a strategy that’ll take our marketing to new heights."
I almost laughed. That strategy was mine.
Late nights in our old apartment. He’d complain about not understanding the numbers. I’d stay up making slides, organizing data, turning everything into bite-sized pieces he could present like they were his own.
I told myself it was love. That helping him made him happy.
But it wasn’t love. It was manipulation. And I was blind. I remembered the night I heard him talking to Amber on the phone—he thought I was asleep in the bedroom.
“So why haven’t you dumped her yet?” Amber had asked, laughing.
“Because she’s valuable to me. Once I’m promoted, I’ll dump her myself,” James said. “She’s clingy, but she’s useful—for now. Don’t worry, I’m all yours, and it’s not like the wedding will happen… I’m just giving her hope.”
After the meeting, James approached me, buzzing with excitement.
“Babe, they loved it,” he grinned. “You’re amazing. I need another favor. There’s this upcoming pitch—big promotion opportunity. I need you to do what you do best. Can you prepare it for me?”
I smiled. “Of course. I’ll take care of it.”
He kissed the top of my head and walked away like I was his assistant.
That night, I sat in my room, surrounded by notes and graphs, trying to convince myself to finish it—one last time.
Until I opened my phone and saw her.
Amber Green. A picture of her standing by the bay, the sky lit with fireworks behind her.
Caption: “Beautiful night with my favorite person.”
Then I clicked the video. She was giggling. Spinning the camera. And there he was—James—smiling at her, holding a drink.
My breath caught. So that’s where he went.
While I sat here, helping him build a career, he was out celebrating his lies.
I closed my laptop slowly. I didn’t cry. I didn’t rage.
I just… sat. Then I made a decision.
No more helping. No more excuses. No more playing.
The next morning, I didn’t go to the office. No texts. No explanations. By noon, James had called seven times. By 3 p.m., it was seventeen.
I didn’t answer as he kept on messaging me. I looked at his name flashing across the screen.
Then I hit block.
