Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English
Synopsis
For seven years, I stood by Clara Vance, building a startup from scratch until our company finally rang the opening bell on Wall Street.
Yet on the very day we went public, she made an Instagram post hard-launching her relationship with her first love—and blocked me from seeing it.
Instagram exploded instantly.
*“Didn't Ethan quit his seven-figure salary back then just to help you build this company? Now that you're public, you're throwing him out like trash?”*
Clara replied impatiently:
*“I didn't have a choice back then.”*
*“Besides, being around him for seven years only made me realize one thing: when it comes to marriage, you have to choose the one you truly love.”*
A close friend commented, trying to talk sense into her.
*“Ethan basically runs all company operations by himself. What will you do if he quits over this?”*
Clara hesitated for a brief second before typing back with icy certainty.
*“He’s just an executive assistant. I could pull anyone off the street to do his job. The company won't crumble without him!”*
What she didn't know was that on the other side of the screen, I was staring at her account—which was still logged into my laptop—watching the words appear in real time.
I drained my iced Americano in one gulp.
Then, I booked a one-way flight back to my hometown for three days later.
My resignation letter was halfway out of the printer when the office door swung open.
Clara walked in, her three-inch heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She tossed a thick folder onto my desk and commanded, "Ethan, redo these financial reports."
She didn't even spare me a glance. Her eyes were glued to her phone, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.
I recognized that smile.
Back in college, whenever she got a text from Julian Hayes, she had that exact same look.
It had been seven years. I had almost forgotten she was capable of such softness.
Too bad it was never meant for me.
"Ms. Vance," I said evenly. "The accounting department already signed off on these yesterday."
She finally looked up, her brow furrowing. "I said redo it, so redo it. Do you have a problem with that?"
I lowered my gaze, my fingertips unconsciously brushing against the body of my fountain pen.
It was a birthday gift from her during our first year working together. Nothing designer or fancy, but she had picked it out herself.
"Alright. I'll get it to you tomorrow."
"I need it before you leave today." She turned to walk out, then paused as if remembering something. "Oh, by the way, order a box of liquor-filled chocolates. Make sure they're imported from Belgium. I'm gifting them to someone."
My heart sank. "A client?"
"What's the matter, Ethan? Jealous?" She arched an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Relax. It's for a client. If you want some, order a box for yourself and expense it to the company."
"No need. I cut out sugar." I kept my head down, noting the request in my memo app.
Satisfied, she turned and left, the sharp clicking of her heels fading down the hallway.
Outside the window, the confetti from yesterday's IPO celebration had yet to be fully swept away.
Only yesterday, we were clinking champagne glasses together, celebrating the biggest victory of our seven-year journey.
I thought it was the dawn of our new life together.
Little did I know, it was just the end of my one-sided delusion.
At four in the afternoon, I emailed the revised reports to Clara’s inbox.
At five-thirty, I packed my bag and left the office on the dot.
Passing her suite, I glanced through the half-open door. She was touching up her lipstick in the mirror, while a vase of white roses—the ones I had ordered—sat on her desk.
Vibrant and radiant, just like the flush on her face.
My assistant, Kevin, leaned over and whispered, "Ethan, is Ms. Vance... seeing someone?"
The corner of my mouth twitched. "Just focus on your work."
Inside the elevator, I caught sight of the thirty-year-old man reflected in the polished metal doors.
The spark that once burned in my eyes was gone, replaced by a dull, bone-deep exhaustion.
When Clara first started the company, I had poured every cent of my savings into her vision.
At our lowest point, we didn't even have a hundred bucks between us.
Crammed inside a tiny, hundred-square-foot sublet eating instant noodles, she had looked straight into my eyes and said with complete conviction:
"Ethan, we're going to make it. Once we hit it big, I'll pay you way more than that million-dollar salary you gave up."
I believed her.
Not because I cared about the money, but because I believed that one day, she would finally see the man who had been standing behind her all along.
Seven years passed. The company was now worth billions. And she no longer needed me.
My phone rang. It was Clara.
"Ethan, cancel tomorrow morning's meeting. I have some personal matters to attend to."
Knowing the reason, I still asked, "Do you need me to arrange a car?"
"No, Julian is picking me up."
*Julian.* She said his name so effortlessly.
"Understood. Anything else you need me to prep?"
"No, you..." She hesitated for a moment. "Just get some rest early."
Before the call disconnected, Julian's voice drifted through the speaker: "Clara, who's calling you this late?"
"Just my executive assistant. Handing off some work."
*Executive assistant.*
Two words that drew an impenetrable line between us.The next morning, I arrived at the office early.
The signed resignation letter sat quietly inside my desk drawer, waiting for the right moment to be submitted.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text from Julian.
*“Hey Ethan, heard you’ve been taking care of Clara all these years. Must’ve been exhausting.”*
*“She told me that if you weren’t so damn competent, she wouldn’t have settled for keeping you around this long.”*
*“Clara and I are shopping for engagement rings today. Hold down the fort at the office for us, will you?”*
I read through the messages with a blank expression. My thumb hovered over the screen for a second, but I didn't reply.
I tapped open the zip file he attached. Inside were photos of Clara and him traveling together over the years.
Five years ago. Three years ago. One year ago.
They had never lost touch.
While I was out drinking with clients until my stomach was bleeding just to close a round of funding, they were skiing in the Swiss Alps.
While I pulled all-nighters polishing pitch decks until dawn, they were kissing under the Eiffel Tower.
While I was hooked to an IV drip in an ER, taking conference calls, they were watching the sunset on a beach in the Maldives.
...
I had asked her so many times to go on a trip with me, even just a quick weekend getaway.
Every time, she would massage her temples, leaning wearily against my shoulder:
"Ethan, I can't afford to lose focus right now. Let's wait until the IPO, okay? When that happens, I'll go wherever you want."
I took her word for it. I even secretly built travel itineraries in my notes.
Yet every single "solo business trip" she took each year was just a rendezvous with Julian.
Staring at the screen, a quiet laugh escaped my lips.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the resignation letter and walked straight into HR.
The HR director stared at me in disbelief.
"Ethan, you’ve been here since day one! The company just went public—why would you walk away now?"
"Besides, didn't Ms. Vance promise to grant you any wish you wanted once we rang the bell? Isn't it a waste to leave right now?"
My feelings for Clara had been the worst-kept secret in the company.
Yet in public, she never showed me an ounce of affection and never allowed me to cross professional boundaries.
She even demanded that we commute via different routes to keep up appearances.
Everyone assumed it was just unrequited love—that I was leaving because my heart couldn't take the rejection anymore.
Looking back, maybe that was for the best.
Falling for her was my choice.
Falling out of love meant I could walk away cleanly.
As for that "wish," I had originally saved it to propose to her.
She had always claimed she didn't believe in marriage and wasn't ready to settle down.
I had waited seven years; I didn't mind waiting a few more.
But now, I was exhausted. I didn't want to wait anymore.
"Yeah, maybe it is a waste," I said quietly. "But I really just need a break. Let's process the paperwork."
Seeing the finality in my eyes, she stopped trying to talk me out of it.
After clearing the exit procedures, I returned to the apartment. I found Clara sitting in the living room, staring absentmindedly at a diamond ring.
When the front door clicked, she panicked and hid the box behind her back, trying to cover it up: "You're back? By the way, I'm heading out on a business trip tomorrow. Just giving you a heads-up."
I set my keys on the counter. "Okay."
I never pushed back, never questioned her decisions.
Just as I turned toward the bedroom, she caught my arm.
"Ethan, aren't you going to ask how long I'll be gone?"
I paused, surprised by the question.
Usually, she just gave me orders so I could pack her bags.
Looking at her shifting eyes, I forced a faint smile. "Sorry. Work was overwhelming today; my head is spinning."
Her expression softened, and she suddenly leaned in and kissed my cheek.
"Ethan, I haven't even properly congratulated us on taking the company public yet. Tell me what wish you want, and I'll make it happen as soon as I get back."
I knew I should let it go.
Yet a tiny, stubborn part of me wanted to make one final attempt.
Consider it closure for the past seven years.
I took her hand and looked straight into her eyes.
"Clara, if my wish is for us to get married... would you say yes?"She froze. Her eyes darted away, unable to meet mine.
After a long pause, she forced an awkward smile:
"Ethan, you know I'm not ready for marriage right now. The company just went public, there's so much on my plate..."
The answer had been obvious all along. Why did I have to humiliate myself?
I masked the chill in my heart with a self-deprecating smile.
"I know. Just a joke," I cut her off, not wanting to hear the same worn-out excuses.
It wasn't that she didn't want to get married; she just didn't want to marry me.
The realization carved into my chest like a dull blade, slicing over and over.
I should have seen it long ago.
The way she refused to take photos together. The way she never introduced me to her family. The way she always referred to me as her executive assistant to the outside world.
The signs were always there. I had simply chosen to be blind.
"So what do you actually want?"
She seemed visibly relieved, her tone turning eager. "More stock options? A bonus? Just name it."
I shook my head. "We'll talk when you get back."
Turning on my heel, I walked into the bedroom and started packing.
Her suitcase, and mine.
My phone vibrated repeatedly. Predictably, it was Julian.
*“Ethan, Clara's leaving on a trip tomorrow. Make sure you pack the new outfits I bought her today.”*
*“I’ve got great taste, right? Clara looks so much younger in them.”*
*“You can leave styling your boss to me from now on. You're not as capable as they say anyway—at least, you couldn't keep your woman.”*
I had bought almost all of Clara’s clothes over the years.
Sure enough, there were several new designer pieces hanging in the closet.
Tucked inside one of the coat pockets was a pack of unopened condoms.
I knew Julian left them there on purpose, a pathetic display of dominance.
I didn't bother responding. I simply blocked his number.
I went back to packing my things.
After seven years, my personal belongings were pitifully sparse. Everything fit into a single carry-on.
Just like my place in Clara’s life—easily cleared out without leaving a trace.
When my hands touched the few suits she had bought for me, I paused.
Before last year's annual gala, she had actually taken the time to go shopping with me.
"Ethan, you look incredible in this," she had said with a warm smile, personally adjusting my tie.
Now I realized that was just a boss handing out a treat to a high-performing employee.
It had nothing to do with love.
As I zipped up my suitcase, her voice drifted in from the study down the hall.
"Clara, are you really proposing to Julian tomorrow? What about Ethan? Can you really just let him go?"
"Of course I can't let him go. That's why you all need to keep your mouths shut. Don't let him find out."
"Look at you, Ms. Vance, having your cake and eating it too. Holding onto your first love while keeping your safety net."
"Safety net? He doesn't even compare to Julian. Besides, he's the one who can't live without me."
...
I stood rooted to the spot, paralyzed.
Listening to the woman I had loved for a decade dismiss my devotion so casually.
There was no affection in her tone. Only condescension.
I stood there and listened to every single word.
Each syllable felt like a dull knife sawing through my heart until everything went completely numb.
An old college photo slipped out from between the pages of a book on my nightstand.
In the picture, I was standing beside Clara, smiling like an idiot.
Her eyes, however, were gazing past the lens, searching for someone in the distance.
Now I knew. She had been looking for Julian.
Even back when Julian was studying abroad, even when I was the one pulling her through every crisis...
Her heart had never belonged to me for a single second.
I tossed the photo into the trash bin.
Along with seven years of my youth, and my love.
The next morning, when I woke up, Clara was already gone.
A yellow sticky note sat on the kitchen counter: *Ethan, wait for me to come back.*
I picked it up, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it away.
Dragging my suitcase to the front door, I took one last look at the penthouse we had shared for years.
From the cramped rental apartment to this multi-million-dollar home, I thought we were building a life together brick by brick.
Only now did I realize it was all just a solitary daydream.
My phone pinged. A text from Clara.
*“Ethan, I left the gift for the client at home. Find it for me and have it delivered to this address.”*
I didn't need to ask. I knew it was the engagement ring.
I called an on-demand courier to deliver the ring, then walked out and hailed an Uber to the airport.
On the highway, I sent Clara one final message:
*“Clara, let’s end this. We’re over.”*
----------此处为截断点----------Right after sending the text, I powered off my phone.
As the plane lifted into the clouds, I watched the sprawling skyline shrink beneath the wing, feeling completely calm.
There was no gut-wrenching agony, just a quiet sense of finality.
After seven years, I had finally learned how to let go.
When I arrived back at my parents' house in our small coastal town, my mom had already set the dinner table with all my favorite dishes.
My dad took my suitcase. He didn't ask a single question, only clapped a heavy, reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"Good to have you home, son."
Life in this small town moved at a slow, gentle pace—a stark contrast to the relentless grind of the city.
I started helping my parents run our independent bookstore, occasionally posting book reviews and essays online.
No endless board meetings. No midnight networking dinners soaked in alcohol. No frantic slack pings that demanded an immediate reply.
It felt like reconnecting with the Ethan Vance who had just entered college—the version of me before I ever crossed paths with Clara.
A month of peaceful days slipped by, until one rainy afternoon. I was restocking the shelves when the chime above the door jingled.
"Welcome in," I said without looking up.
No footsteps followed.
Curious, I lifted my eyes and collided with a familiar gaze.
Clara stood by the entrance, drenched in rain, dark purple shadows hanging heavily under her eyes.
"Ethan..." Her voice was hoarse. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
I set the novel down, my expression unreadable. "Ms. Vance, is there something you need?"
"Ethan, don't call me that." She stepped forward, reaching out to grab my hand, but I sidestepped cleanly out of reach.
"Ms. Vance, this is a quiet bookstore. Please don't disturb the patrons."
A couple of customers turned around, glancing at us with curiosity.
Clara took a sharp breath, lowering her voice. "Can we talk? Please?"
I gave the cashier a quick nod to watch the front, then led her through the back door into the private courtyard.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Why did you leave?" She searched my face, a defensive edge creeping into her tone. "Why didn't you say goodbye?"
A dry chuckle escaped my throat.
"Ms. Vance, I submitted my formal resignation, and I sent you a breakup text. How is that leaving without saying goodbye?"
"I never agreed to it!" she flared up suddenly, her composure cracking. "I never agreed to break up!"
"Ethan, I know you're mad because I neglected you. But we just went public, I was drowning in work..."
The same recycled excuses.
I cut her off. "Clara, does Julian know you're here?"
She froze, her eyes darting away. "Why are you bringing him up?"
"Aren't you supposed to be engaged to him? Running off to find your ex doesn't look very good, does it?"
"Who told you that?" She lunged forward, grabbing my wrist tightly. "Did Julian say something to you? He's lying! It's all bullshit!"
I wrenched my hand free and looked at her with pure indifference.
"Clara, I'm not blind, and I'm not stupid. He sent me all the photos of you two years ago."
"Five years. You kept seeing him behind my back for five whole years. And like a pathetic idiot, I actually believed you were out closing deals on those business trips."
Every drop of color drained from her face.
"Ethan, let me explain..."
"Explain what? Explain how you lived with me while taking annual vacations to Europe with your ex?"
"Explain how you told me you didn't believe in marriage while secretly picking out a ring to propose to another man?"
Watching her panic, I felt only a hollow numbness inside.
"Clara, for seven years, I gave you countless chances. I kept telling myself that if I just worked harder, if I just loved you better, you'd finally see me."
"Now I understand. It wasn't that you couldn't see me. You just never cared to look."
She shook her head violently, tears spilling over her lashes. "No, Ethan, that's not true! I love you!"
"Love?" I scoffed softly. "Your love meant keeping me hidden as your assistant? Never introducing me to your parents? And the very day we went public, you blocked me on Instagram just to hard-launch your romance with another guy?"
Clara stood paralyzed. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
"How... how did you know about that?"
"Your account was still logged in on my laptop," I said quietly. "I watched you type it."
"Clara, we're done. Go back to your life, and don't come here again."
I turned toward the door, but two arms wrapped desperately around my waist from behind.
"No, I'm not leaving! Ethan, give me one more chance, I'm begging you..."
Her tears soaked through the back of my cotton shirt, scalding against my skin.
Once upon a time, I would have given anything for her embrace.
Now, it only felt suffocating.
I pried her fingers off one by one, stepping away without looking back.
"Goodbye, Ms. Vance."
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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