The Map to Your Heart

I was counting down the days on my calendar, waiting for that concert.

Then I got Ethan's text, Sorry, sudden business trip. Can't make it.

But guess who showed up on the big screen that night? Him, making out with some girl during the encore.

It was Serena Flores. The same girl he'd called just a client's daughter last month.

After the show, I saw her Instagram post,- their hands intertwined, caption reading,

"Kissing the love of my life, lost in our favorite music... the most romantic thing ever."

I turned away, only to be slammed into by a car that suddenly accelerated.

Through the car window, I saw Ethan in the passenger seat.

He didn't even look my way...

...

When I opened my eyes again, the hospital lights were blinding.

Ethan was sitting by my bed, smiling at his phone.

The soft expression? Hadn't seen it directed at me in years.

"Who's got you smiling like that?" I asked.

His smile vanished instantly, replaced by icy professionalism. "Just focus on getting better. Don't worry about my phone."

His words shut me down. He stood to leave, forgetting his keys on the bedside table.

I dialed my uncle. "Uncle, about that marriage arrangement you mentioned... I accept."

He sounded relieved. "Finally coming to your senses! That man who kept you hidden for five years was never worthy of you!"

Anger tinged his voice as he asked when I'd be back.

"As soon as I quit," I said. "I doubt Ethan will block it."

The door opened as I hung up--Ethan was back for his keys.

"Hear someone's resigning?" he asked without looking up from his phone.

I nodded.

But he just kept texting, fingers flying over the screen.

"The doctor said you hit your head pretty hard. Might have memory loss." He pocketed the keys, tone casual. "I was driving. Dark road. Lucky it wasn't worse..."

A bitter smile touched my lips.

So he was counting on me forgetting.

I remembered seeing Serena behind the wheel before impact. He was right beside her, not even bothering with excuses.

"Just woke up, brain's fuzzy. Didn't recognize you at first, boss," I played along.

He blinked, surprised. Normally I'd be crying over a papercut. Today, I hadn't even glanced his way.

He looked around, maybe thinking I was mad, and lowered his voice. "Too many people here. Need to be careful. When you're out, I'll make it up to you."

"Thanks, boss," I replied, emphasizing the word.

He flinched like I'd slapped him.

But when the doctor entered, he was all business again.

"Follow protocol. No special treatment," he instructed before leaving.

The nurse later told me, "Your boss may act tough, but he paid your bill upfront."

I touched the stiff hospital sheets, laughing, the sound tasting like ash.

He played his part so well. Only his inner circle knew we'd survived on instant noodles in that tiny first apartment.

Or crowded together on the couch watching New Year's fireworks...

I'd asked him so many times, "When do I get to be more than your secret?"

His answer never changed, "Not yet."

Now I understood. "Not yet" really meant "never."

On discharge day, Ethan called.

His location showed a hotel.

"Meeting a client. Can't pick you up." Before he finished, Serena's voice chirped in the background,"Ethan, help me with this eyeshadow..."

He hung up, sending two digital payment transfers.

The exact amount I used to beg for when times were tight.

Seeing his new matching profile pic with Serena, I hit "Return."

He sent question marks. I didn't bother explaining.

Back at the apartment we'd shared for five years.

The matching mugs I'd bought were still in the cupboard.

The throw pillow he'd said, "We'll take to our real home someday."

But he hadn't slept here since the concert night.

Halfway through packing, the door opened.

Ethan walked in, frowning. "Making a mess? Shouldn't you be resting?" He reached for a box, reaching for it, but the scent of his cologne C now mixed with Serena's gardenia perfume C made me step back.

"Just clearing out junk," I said, holding the box tighter.

He snatched it and tossed it in the trash.

"Get changed. Taking you to dinner." His tone softened slightly.

But at the restaurant downstairs, he ordered clam chowder.

He knew the smell made me sick.

"Waiter, could you take this away please?" I asked.

Ethan pulled the bowl towards himself. "Sophie, since when are you so picky?"

I opened my mouth to say "We're done," but Serena appeared.

She slid possessively next to Ethan, looking down at me. "Serena Flores. Ethan's girlfriend."

Ethan froze, but I smiled first. "Sophie Winters. Mr. Foster's employee. Just having a quick meal."

He relaxed immediately. "Right. This is Sophie."

Serena played with her phone, making sure I saw the screen.

Her profile picture matched Ethan's perfectly.

Even their expensive outfits were color-coordinated.

"Ms. Winters must be very capable," she said sweetly, her smile loaded. "First time I've seen Ethan have dinner with any woman but me."

I put down my fork to leave.

She grabbed my hand, nails digging deep into my flesh.

"Don't go, Ms. Winters! Did I say something wrong?" As she spoke, she suddenly slapped the little boy at the next table.

The child burst into tears. Serena pretended to comfort him while crying herself.

But the child pointed at me. "She threw her hand and hit me!"

Then he lunged, sinking his teeth into my hand. It took forever to pry him off.

Ethan glared. "Apologize. Now!"

Under everyone's stares. I swallowed the pain. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't satisfied. "Apologize to Serena too!"

Serena put on a show. "It's fine, really."

But seeing the marks on her wrist, Ethan suddenly grabbed my injured hand and shoved it into the steaming soup bowl that had just arrived.

Sixty-degree liquid seared the bite marks. I trembled violently.

"That's for being scheming," he said coldly. "Don't be so petty."

I looked at him and laughed.

The restaurant fell silent.

He finally let go, walking out with Serena without looking back.

At home, a DoorDash delivery arrived, burn cream.

The message read, "Don't mess with Serena. We'll still be working together."

I didn't reply. He didn't contact me again.

The next day at work, colleagues gave me strange looks.

Zoe showed me her phone secretly.

The office chat was flooded with, "Sophie caught trying to seduce Mr. Foster!"

Before I could explain, Ethan walked in with Serena. "Team, meet Serena Flores, our new department manager."

That position was supposed to be mine.

But seeing Serena's smug look, I just felt tired. I was leaving anyway.

I emailed HR my resignation and went to make honey lemon tea.

Serena followed, sitting beside me. "Five years as Ethan's dirty secret is enough. Keep quiet, and I won't make trouble." She played a voice message, the same boy's voice. "Aunt Serena, don't forget my new video game!"

So the whole restaurant scene was her setup.

I stood to leave. She snatched my mug and poured the tea over her own head.

Then she dumped coffee down her blouse, scratched her neck raw, and screamed, "Sophie, what are you doing?!"

Colleagues rushed in. I snapped. I slapped her. Hard.

Ethan burst in just as I stood there, Serena collapsed dramatically on the floor.

Without hesitation, he slapped me back. "Get out if you can't act professional!"

He carried Serena out. My lower back slammed against a desk corner. Tears sprang from the pain.

HR processed my resignation instantly. Finance cut my final check. My company access vanished.

Only Ethan could make things happen that fast.

I texted, "We're done." It bounced back, "Message Blocked."

Stepping out of the building, the sun was painfully bright. I looked up.

Clouds drifted overhead, like my five-year relationship, finally scattered.

Uncle texted, The arranged match is waiting at the airport.

I picked up my suitcase and didn't look back.

Some people are meant to be clouds from the start.

Try to hold them too tight, they just slip through your fingers.

Better to let go early. Find your own sunshine.