Chapter 4

In the beginning, the hardest part was falling asleep.

I couldn't stop tossing and turning, replaying every single detail of our seven years together.

I was terrified that I had misjudged him, that I had unfairly sentenced our relationship to death.

I went through our text history over and over.

But the more I read, the more miserable I became. The sadness slowly twisted into a dark, suffocating resentment.

I began to hate Alexander.

Six years. Six whole years of my life.

I hated how easily he had discarded me, without a single ounce of care.

At 4:00 AM one night, in a fit of agony, I blocked and deleted him from every single social media platform.

I dragged myself out of bed, packed every single item he had ever bought me into heavy boxes, and shoved them into the back of the storage locker.

I thought doing this would bring me peace.

But it felt like trying to swat a mosquito that was draining my blood, only to end up covered in my own wounds.

I still had to attend essential business galas as his "former assistant" or "ex-project lead," pretending nothing was wrong.

But only I knew that a massive piece of my heart had been violently carved out.

That piece had belonged to Alexander. It had rotted away.

To survive, I had to amputate it.

But I forgot that when the wound is too deep, the body bleed to death anyway.

My emotional dam completely broke when I ran into him at a charity gala a month later.

Alexander was as poised and commanding as ever.

In fact, he looked even more radiant, as if my absence hadn't affected his life in the slightest.

Sophia was clinging to his arm, looking up at him with a blushing, secret smile.

After that night, I stopped sleeping entirely. I couldn't keep any food down.

Since Alexander didn't have public social media, I began obsessively stalking Sophia's Instagram.

I analyzed every single post, every geotag, looking for traces of him.

I kept this up until my blood sugar crashed, and I fainted during a networking cocktail hour. I woke up in a hospital bed.

Alexander finally condescended to visit me.

It was the twenty-ninth day after our breakup.

He sat by my bed, casually spinning the matching silver promise ring on his finger.

"You've lost weight, Zo."

I stared at him, my eyes hollow, my mind completely numb.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Alexander let out a satisfied, victorious smile.

And just like that, we got back together.