I stared at the screen longer than I should have, my thoughts spiraling downward. When I tried to close the app, I realized something else—Rocco’s account was still logged in on my tablet.
I didn’t want to see more. Didn’t want proof. Didn’t want to witness whatever intimacy lingered between them. Exhaling sharply, I logged out and set the tablet aside, refusing to let myself fall deeper into it.
By morning, I felt calmer—emptier, but steadier. At the office, my manager handed me my approved resignation letter. Her expression carried pride mixed with regret as I explained my reason for leaving: a bond marriage arranged between families, one that would take me out of the city.
“I’ll miss you, Sofia,” she said softly. “You’ve always been one of my strongest.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I pulled her into a tight embrace instead, murmuring my thanks for everything she’d taught me over the years.
After the paperwork was finalized, my colleagues insisted on a farewell lunch to mark my engagement. I didn’t argue. I reserved a private table at one of Rocco’s preferred restaurants—a discreet place often used by men in our world for quiet meetings. It was familiar. Too familiar.