You Want Her? I'll Have Her

Elena's POV

I stared at the email on my screen, my hands trembling.

“Congratulations! You have been accepted as a Fine Art Curator with us. See you in Paris in a month.”

I should have been ecstatic. This was my dream job. My ticket to freedom.

But all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest.

Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life—my graduation. The moment I had worked for, the day I thought Nathan Sterling, my boyfriend of three years, would finally stand by my side, proud to call me his.

Instead, he wasn’t here.

No calls. No texts.

Just a courier delivery this morning—a neatly wrapped gift box containing an expensive diamond necklace.

And a note.

“Elena,

Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you. I wish I could be there, but I had to fly out for an important business deal.

Enjoy your day. We’ll celebrate when I return.

Nathan.”

A business trip. Right.

I smiled through dinner with my mother, pretending everything was fine. Pretending that Nathan missing my graduation was just another small sacrifice I had to understand.

I had spent three years understanding.

Understanding when he canceled dates.

Understanding when he told me to keep our relationship quiet.

Understanding when he always chose his company over me.

But tonight, I had no understanding left to give.

Not after I saw her post.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled through Instagram again, staring at Sophia Laurent’s latest update.

A picture of Nathan.

On a yacht. Shirtless.

With Sophia—his secretary and childhood sweetheart—sitting on his lap.

The caption?

“Business trips aren’t so bad when you’re with the right company. #Greece”

My stomach twisted so violently that I thought I might be sick.

I swiped through the rest of the photos, each one worse than the last.

In one, Sophia’s lips hovered near Nathan’s neck, her fingers resting on his chest, her expression intimate.

In another, Nathan’s arm curled around her waist—a touch too familiar, too possessive.

A rush of memories crashed into me—the nights I had spent alone, waiting for him to come home. The moments he had reassured me that Sophia was nothing more than an assistant. The promises he had made, telling me I was the only one he loved.

I felt like an idiot.

For years, Nathan had told me Sophia was just a friend. His assistant. His trusted right hand.

“Sophia? Don’t be ridiculous, baby. She’s like a sister to me.”

I had believed him, like a fool.

I clenched my phone, my vision blurring with rage.

I didn’t even think. My body moved on autopilot as I stood, walking toward Nathan’s office.

I knew the passcode—had always known it.

Because Nathan never bothered to hide anything.

Because he thought I would never check.

My hands were steady as I pulled open his desk drawer, flipping through folders, searching for something—anything.

And then I saw it.

A thick stack of legal documents with an official seal.

I scanned the first page, my breath catching.

Marriage Agreement between Nathan Sterling & Sophia Laurent.

The words blurred together. I flipped through the pages frantically, my pulse roaring in my ears.

The contract had been signed six months ago.

Six months. That meant that while Nathan was telling me he loved me…

While he was kissing me, touching me, whispering empty promises into my skin…

He was already engaged to Sophia.

The entire time, I had just been a secret. Nothing more.

I pressed a hand against my chest, as if that could stop the sharp, gut-wrenching pain spreading through me.

I had given everything to this man. And he had never planned to choose me.

A small, bitter laugh escaped my lips. It sounded almost hysterical.

Nathan had no idea.

No idea that I had just seen the proof of his betrayal.

No idea that in thirty days, I would be gone.

And when he realized it, it would be too late.

I carefully placed the contract back, smoothing the papers as if nothing had happened. Then, with icy precision, I pulled out my phone and opened my email.

I typed my response to the Paris job offer.

“I accept.”

Then, I sent Nathan a text.

“I saw the photos. Enjoy your vacation. I’ll see you when you return.”

No anger. No accusations.

Because I knew Nathan.

He wouldn’t take me seriously if I exploded at him. He would just charm his way out of it, gaslight me into believing I was overreacting.

But not this time.

I’m not going to cry.

I’m not going to fight.

I am going to disappear.

Nathan Sterling had always taken me for granted. He had assumed I would always be there, waiting for him.

But soon, he would wake up to an empty home, an empty bed, and an empty life.

And by then, I will be gone.