Your Company, Not My Life

Three days into the silent treatment, Derrick—my fiancé and CEO—greenlit his assistant's pitch for a self-driving road trip. He expected me to flip, like always. I didn't. A month later, he came back and saw it—I wasn't the same. He backed Molly, stole my project, and thought I'd explode. I didn't. I just helped her draft the proposal. He trashed everything I built, just so she could snag her year-end bonus. I didn't fight back. Took the blame, took the hit. Molly was all smug. "See? Told you. You can't go at Yara head-on. Give her the silent treatment—she folds. She's scared of losing you. That's why she's playing nice." Derrick ate it up. Called her smart. Then he pulled me aside—offered a raise, a promotion, even a fancy wedding. First time he'd ever brought it up. But he missed one detail: he'd already signed off on my resignation while he was off playing road trip king. And I'd already dumped him. That was it. Clean cut. Nothing left. Chapter 1 "Yara, Mr. Cromwell needs this proposal ASAP. Sorry to bug you, but finish it before you head out." Molly Leach, Derrick's assistant, dropped a fat stack of papers on my desk, all chipper like we were besties. I took them. "Got it." She wasn't done. Still smiling, she threw in, "Mr. Cromwell and I have a client meeting later. Just leave the docs on his desk. Oh—and tidy up his office before you go." Then she strutted off like she owned the floor, heels clicking, mood sky-high. Around me, the office fell quiet. My coworkers shot me that awkward look—half pity, half helpless. Everyone knew Derrick Cromwell, CEO of Vantrel Corp, was my fiancé. Everyone also knew he blatantly played favorites, and Molly was his number one. He'd yanked her from another firm, made her director, then handed her a million-dollar project I'd busted two months bringing in and prepping. When I pushed back, he called a team vote, thinking everyone would back him. Wrong. The whole team voted for me—except him. Molly got one vote. His. He lost it. Accused me of stirring up cliques. Didn't just take the project away—he demoted me in front of everyone and slashed the salaries of the people who'd backed me. Nobody dared speak up. Later, he apologized. Said didn't want it to look like favoritism. Claimed Molly might feel left out. I used to believe that crap. Now? It's a joke. Molly couldn't even keep up with our interns. 'Didn't want it to look like favoritism'? Please. He was straight-up playing favorites. Everyone saw it but him. I heard footsteps upstairs and looked up. Derrick. He showed up at the stairwell, glanced my way, then walked out without saying a word. Changed into some casual suit. Even from here, I caught that cedar cologne. He never used to wear cologne. That one? Molly's gift. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing. He'd been pulling this kind of stuff for years. It started after I found their goodnight texts. Couldn't stay quiet—I confronted him. Chapter 2 Derrick said I was being petty. Then, like it proved some point, he used it as an excuse to "make it official" and moved Molly to work directly under him. The more upset I got, the harder he leaned in—dragging her to every social event, serving her food, even wiping her mouth at company dinners. When we fought, he'd ice me out. When I apologized, he'd round up his buddies to lecture me like I was some jealous mess. For a while, I actually blamed myself. Thought maybe I wasn't generous enough. Thought maybe that's why we ended up here. But on day three of one of his silent treatments—when I was too sick to even sit up and he still packed his bags for a trip with Molly—I gave up. That's when it hit me: he wasn't trying to be noble. He just used my "pettiness" as a shield so he could keep doing what he wanted without feeling guilty. Even if I hadn't caught those late-night chats, he would've just found another excuse to be with her. After their latest business trip, they were still grabbing dinner, drinks, playing tennis—same routine. But something between them had changed. I could feel it. Not that it mattered. Five years together, and it was done. This whole mess had dragged on long enough. I was the last one in the office, finishing up the proposal. Checked my phone—Molly had been busy posting. Candlelit dinner at some fancy spot. Two plates of steak. Derrick, all polished and perfect, cutting hers for her. Caption: [Steak cut by the CEO himself—it has to taste better.] The comments were full of heart emojis and fangirling. A few clueless people even asked when the wedding was. Derrick replied with three dots. Molly followed up with a cheeky emoji. No clarification. Just like always. But this time, I didn't blow up. Didn't call him, didn't get scolded for "overreacting." I just texted him: proposal's done. Dropped the docs in his office, refilled the water like he asked, then drove home. The second I walked in, my phone rang—Derrick's number. I picked up, but it wasn't him. "Yara, it's Molly. Thanks for your help with the project. I'll treat you to dinner sometime." Her voice was all sugar. Before I could answer, Derrick cut in. "No need to thank her. It's her job." Molly teased. "Mr. Cromwell, she's your fiancée. Can't you talk to her a little nicer?" They sounded like the real couple. I let out a quiet laugh. Derrick—who used to freak out if I even glanced at his phone—now handed it to Molly like it was no big deal. And honestly? I felt weirdly calm. What used to feel like the end of the world suddenly felt... small. They kept joking for a bit, then Derrick finally remembered I was still on the line. "I'll be back soon. No need to wait—get some rest." Then he hung up. His "soon" usually meant four, five hours. I used to pace the whole time, worried sick. But this time, I didn't bother. I just walked to the study and looked at the calendar on my desk. Chapter 3 Not long ago, Derrick and Molly turned a business trip into a vacation. While they were off playing house, I slipped in my resignation. Derrick was too distracted to notice—he approved it without even reading. Three more days. Once the handover's done, I'm out. I paused, then called Prof. Harrington, my old research supervisor, now overseas at a top institute. Back when I graduated, I landed a high-tier spot there straight out the gate. But Derrick said he needed help starting his company, and like an idiot, I dropped everything and ran back to Arlencia. Prof. Harrington told me not to. I didn't listen. Looking back now... yeah, I was dumb. Feelings? They shift. Career? That never stabs you in the back. When the call went through, I explained why I was reaching out. I braced for a lecture. Instead, Prof. Harrington sighed. "I already heard... was thinking about asking you to come back. But this time... are you actually sure?" "I'm sure. The resignation's done." "Resignation? What resignation?" The voice didn't come from the phone. I turned. Derrick stood in the doorway. *** The call had ended. I locked my phone without a word. While I was still trying to figure out what to say, his phone buzzed. Molly again. She'd found a stray kitten and stopped to buy it a sausage. "So cute," Derrick said in a voice message. She shot back right away: "The kitten's cute, or I'm cute?" Then came a selfie—her holding the kitten, pouting with a peace sign. Derrick smiled. "The kitten's cute, but you're cuter." Then, like suddenly remembering I existed, his face shut down. He turned to me, all cold. "Didn't I tell you to get some rest? Why are you still up?" The tone shift was whiplash. Nothing like how he talked to her. And he'd already forgotten I said I resigned. I gave a faint smile. "Just wrapping up a few things." He frowned deeper. "It's late. What's even left? You seriously need to manage your time better, Yara. This procrastination thing is getting out of hand." I didn't bother saying it was his constant last-minute crap that caused it. No arguing. No justifying. I stayed quiet. He didn't push. Just walked off to the bedroom. A minute later, I heard him laughing. Like, actually laughing. Hadn't heard that sound in forever. He only laughed like that with Molly. I tuned it out, sat at my desk, and pulled out some research journals I hadn't finished. The institute had changed a lot in five years. Even with Prof. Harrington backing me, I'd have to prove I still had it. Good thing my foundation was solid. I'd catch up fast. "You're reading research journals?" I hadn't even heard him come back in. He picked one up, flipped through it, then tossed it back with a smirk. "Why are you reading this stuff? Do you even get it?" I stacked the papers. "Just browsing." Chapter 4 I asked, "Did you need something?" Back then, I used to light up when Derrick dropped by just to chat. Not this time. He froze like he didn't expect me to be so blunt. His face shifted—awkward, like he'd stepped in something. "Yeah, actually. Molly just wrapped up a big project, so I'm thinking of promoting her. Should give the team a boost. What do you think?" He looked straight at me. Sure, he said he wanted my opinion, but we both knew that wasn't true. I just nodded. "I don't mind." Then he added, "But rewards should come with penalties too. You haven't finished a project in a while, so I'm thinking of moving you to a lower-level position. Just for now. "Once things calm down, I'll bring you back. Don't worry—it's for the greater good. You're my fiancée, so you'll support me, right?" I laughed—silently, in my head. He still had no clue I'd already quit. He could read Molly like a book—knew her mood from a glance, remembered every little thing she liked. But his own fiancée handed him a resignation letter he signed, and he didn't even realize. That's what it looks like when someone just doesn't care. You can tell in one or two lines. When I stayed quiet, Derrick assumed I was gearing up to argue, like always. His face darkened. "Even if you disagree, it won't change anything. The announcement's already out. Your office belongs to Molly now." "Either accept the transfer or leave," he said. "But just a heads-up—the company's going public. Might wanna think twice before walking away." He really thought I'd stay. It wasn't new. I'd been shoved down the ladder more than once, all because of Molly's petty comments. I took it back then. Derrick figured I'd cling even harder now. I gave a dry smile. "I didn't say I disagreed." "Then it's settled," Derrick said, sounding relieved. To him, silence meant agreement. He was halfway out the door when he turned back. "Didn't you used to keep our photo on your desk? Where'd it go?" That's when it hit me. It wasn't just the desk. I'd plastered our photos everywhere—my phone, the bedroom wall, my wallet. Little reminders that no matter how cold he got, he still loved me. He used to laugh at that. Said I was obsessed with those "silly little things." He never got it. Never understood they were the only thing keeping me from walking. Later, I saw them for what they were—proof of how pathetic I'd been. "I broke the frame," I said flatly. "Put it away." He frowned, immediately scanning the floor. "Try not to be so clumsy. Make sure you cleaned it up—don't want anyone getting hurt." His tone softened a little, probably because I wasn't arguing. Then he left the study. I watched him go and almost laughed. That warning wasn't about me. It was about not letting Molly get hurt. This was supposed to be our home. I'd been the one keeping it together—until a few months ago, when I found a hair tie in his study. Pillows on our bed, out of place. That's when I knew. Molly had been here. More than once. Chapter 5 I called him out—I had to. Like he saw it coming, he slapped down proof they were just talking business, then turned it on me, calling me jealous and dramatic. To punish me for "overthinking," he started bringing Molly over like it was nothing. She didn't even try to hide the way she looked at me—like she wanted a fight. Thing is, they never technically crossed a line. After a while, I started questioning myself. Every day felt like a loop of, 'What if it's just me?' Honestly, if I'd put that energy into literally anything else, I'd be way ahead by now. *** The next morning, Derrick proudly announced Molly's big promotion—right after dropping me to the bottom rung. He hesitated at first, but once I stayed chill and acted like it didn't faze me, he bought it. Thought I'd accepted everything. He was riding high. So was I. While he threw Molly a fancy banquet, I was getting my visa approved. While they chilled at an amusement park, I was packing. One suitcase—that's all I needed. While they toasted clients at some club, I wrapped up my final handover. *** Two days later—my last day at Vantrel—I wrapped things up with Sandy in HR. Without even glancing up, she said, "Before you go, stop by the CEO's office. Mr. Cromwell wants to see you." I was about to say no, then stopped. I was flying out tonight. If Derrick went out with Molly like usual, this'd be it. No more run-ins. No more anything. After five years, maybe a final goodbye was fair. So I headed upstairs. Right as I reached for the door, I caught a glimpse through the glass—Derrick kicked back on the couch, and Molly, in a long dress, was lying with her head in his lap. Way too close for "just business." He said something, and she cracked up, covering her mouth like it was the funniest thing ever. *** I froze. Was about to turn back when Molly saw me. She shot up, startled. "Yara, what are you doing here?" Derrick's jaw clenched. He yanked his wrinkled suit into place and barked, "Yara Yenford, who said you could come in? Didn't I tell you not to come upstairs without permission?" He had said that once—but back then, the rule was 'no one but me' could disturb him up here. I used to think that meant I was special. Now I knew better. Not that it mattered. I was already out the door. I kept my voice steady. "Sandy said you were looking for me." He scoffed, stomped to his desk, and hit the intercom. Sandy showed up minutes later. "You told Yara I needed to see her?" he asked, cold as ice. Sandy clocked the tension. She glanced at Derrick's face, then at Molly's guilty one, and hesitated—way too long—before mumbling, "I don't remember." Derrick let out a dry laugh, smug as hell. He turned to me, all frost and venom. "Wow, Yara. Thought you'd grown up, but you're still the same—always plotting. "If you're that paranoid, why not just move in upstairs? Better yet, plant a camera on me. Then you can stalk me 24/7 and finally give that nosy little brain of yours a break." Chapter 6 Nothing I said would've changed a thing. "Mr. Cromwell, don't be upset. I'm sure Yara just got a little emotional because she cares," Molly cooed, running a hand down his back like she owned the place. Then she turned to me, all fake-sweet. "Yara, don't get the wrong idea. I just had a headache, and Mr. Cromwell was helping me relax so I could keep working. Everything we do is for the company—you really don't need to overthink it." I didn't know the full story, but I could feel it—this whole setup had Molly's fingerprints all over it. Sandy, always the diplomatic one, knew better than to speak up. Molly was Derrick's favorite, and she wasn't about to get caught in the crossfire. Not that it mattered. Even if she told the truth, Derrick wouldn't have listened. I kept quiet, but he wasn't finished. Still pissed, he snapped, "No need to explain anything to her. Personal matters stay personal. This is a workplace—we follow the rules. Since Yara broke protocol, cancel her bonus this month. And dock half her salary." Sandy blurted, "Mr. Cromwell, Yara already—" She probably meant to mention my resignation, but Derrick shut her down with a glare. "I don't want to hear excuses. Do as I said." Sandy didn't push it. She just turned and walked out. I was about to do the same when Derrick suddenly called out. He sounded calmer now—maybe yelling helped him feel better. "Yara, I'm not targeting you. These are just the rules. If I don't enforce them, no one will respect them." Molly jumped in, all helpful. "Exactly, Yara. Next time something's unclear, just ask Mr. Cromwell. Or me, if he's busy." Derrick nodded like she'd solved world peace. "Molly really puts the company first. She knows more than anyone." Then he turned on me, cold. "Unlike you. Always jealous. Always dramatic. Maybe you should try learning something from Molly." Learn what? How to slide into someone else's relationship? Fake innocence while poking the bear? Steal credit, sabotage others? I let out a quiet laugh. No point calling her out. Derrick took my silence the wrong way. Thought I was feeling guilty. He stepped closer, reached up to adjust my collar—nothing was wrong with it—and said, all serious, "I know what this drama's really about. I'm disappointed in you. "But hey, you've matured. So here's your reward—let's take our wedding photos tomorrow. "We'll move the date up. But don't get too excited—marriage is just—" "Marriage?" I cut in, laughing under my breath. I brushed off his hand and handed him the resignation form I'd prepped. "Derrick, we're done. I've already quit. Starting today, we have nothing to do with each other."