She Lost Me the Day She Chose Him

The day Serena Vance agreed to come home and meet my parents, my mom slaughtered the hog she'd been raising for two years for the holiday feast.

Then Serena took a phone call at the dinner table, said the company had an emergency, and left.

The next day, I saw it on her social media: my engagement gold watch, strapped to the wrist of her assistant, Roger Manning.

The caption read Roger has such slim wrists, this watch fits him perfectly.

My mom called to ask when Serena was coming back.

I told her not to wait.

I packed Serena's things into a box and left it at the company's front desk.

When she came to find me, Roger was trailing behind her.

Ms. Vance only stayed because she was worried I'd have nobody to look after me at home. Please don't misunderstand, Stuart.

He made a show of reaching for the watch clasp on his wrist, all wide-eyed sincerity.

I let out a cold laugh.

Don't bother taking it off. Keep it.

Consider it a parting gift from me to the both of you.

Serena's face changed instantly.

Who said anything about breaking up?

I did.

I slapped my badge down on the desk and turned to leave.

I'm going home. The hog's already been slaughtered. Somebody should at least sit down and eat.

Stuart Fox, are you a grown man or aren't you? Are you done with this tantrum?

Serena came striding after me in her heels and seized my wrist.

Heads poked out of offices up and down the hallway.

I looked at her calmly.

Let go.

Over a watch? Really?

She kept her voice low, but it carried the same clipped irritation it always did when she slipped into boss mode.

I let you throw your little fits every other day, but today we have a major client. You pick now to walk out? Is this blackmail?

Roger jogged over in a tailored designer casual blazer.

He tugged timidly at Serena's sleeve.

Ms. Vance, this is all my fault.

Maybe I should just give the watch back to Stuart.

His eyes actually went red as he said it.

Serena reached back and pulled him behind her, her frown deepening.

He'd throw a fit whether you returned it or not.

Stuart, Roger just graduated. He's new at the company. What's wrong with me looking out for him a little?

You always said that watch was too heavy. I lent it to him for a few days to go with a suit. And you're blowing this up into a breakup?

I looked at this woman I'd been with for five years.

The absolute certainty on her face made her feel like a stranger.

Serena, that's an engagement watch. Our names are engraved on the back.

I know it's for the engagement.

A slight crease between her brows, a note of tired patience in her voice, the tone of someone who was simply above this.

But Roger has a meeting with Grandview Corp today and he needed an accessory that commands the room. I lent it to him for one day. Is that going to kill you?

She read my flat expression and decided I was sulking again. She sighed, pulled her phone from her designer bag.

If it bothers you that he wore it, fine, let him have it. Tomorrow I'll take you to the store and we'll pick out a nicer one. We can look at wedding rings while we're at it.

She opened the transfer screen with practiced ease and held it out to me.

Here, I'll send you a hundred thousand now. Go pick whatever you like. If it's not enough, I'll add more.

I didn't answer. I just looked at the number on her screen.

She understood everything I'd said. Every word.

She just believed that everything I held sacred could be priced and replaced whenever it suited her.

Stuart, don't be mad at Ms. Vance. She's only thinking about the company's image. Roger chimed in from the side.

Shut up. I didn't spare him a glance.

Roger flinched and ducked behind Serena.

That lit her up.

Stuart, don't push it.

I'm pushing it? I let out a short laugh.

Yesterday was the day my parents set aside to meet their future daughter-in-law.

My mother got up before dawn to boil water and slaughter the hog she'd been raising for two years for the holiday feast.

You sat down at that table, took a phone call, and left.

You told me the company's servers had crashed.

And what actually happened? I pointed at Roger's wrist. A server crash required you to personally go put a watch on your male assistant?

Serena went still for a second, her eyes darting away.

Roger was moving apartments yesterday. He threw out his back lifting a wardrobe and was stuck in his rental, couldn't move.

I went to help him deal with a personal emergency.

Your family can slaughter a hog any time. Roger's back was hurt and nobody was there to help. That could've been serious.

She said it without a shred of hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. My chest went tight.

I nodded.

You're right.

So I won't hold you up from playing savior anymore.

I yanked my hand free.

Serena stared at her empty palm. Her face darkened.

Stuart, the resignation handover takes three days. Use those three days to cool off.

After that, you come back to work like a good boy, and I'll pretend today never happened.

She was certain I'd never leave.

And why wouldn't she be? For five years I'd turned down offers from major tech firms to stay by her side, building Vance Technologies with her from a busted garage to what it was now.

Every professional connection I had, most of my savings, all of it was tied up in her company.

She'd grown used to my patience. My giving in.

I didn't argue. I just bent down and picked up the box of personal belongings I'd dropped on the floor.

Fine. I'll finish the handover.

I carried the box toward the elevator.

Serena stayed where she was. She didn't follow.

Behind me, I heard Roger's voice, low and carefulSerena, is Stuart actually mad?

Serena scoffed.

He's stubborn, but he knows what's good for him. He just wants me to give a little.

The elevator doors slid shut.

I took out my phone and rescheduled my train ticket home to three days later.

That evening, I went back to the apartment Serena and I shared.

The place was full of me. The succulents on the balcony, the matching mugs in the kitchen, the hand-stitched throw pillows on the couch. I'd picked out every one of them.

I pulled out the large suitcase and started packing my clothes and books into it, piece by piece, in silence.

At ten-thirty, the door lock clicked open.

Serena walked in smelling like alcohol, carrying a takeout container of congee.

She didn't even glance at the suitcase on the floor. Just set the congee on the dining table.

Still mad? She came over and reached for my arm out of habit.

I stepped aside.

Her hand closed on air. Her brow creased immediately.

I went out of my way to the south side of the city to get you that scallop and seafood congee. Your favorite place.

Come eat it while it's hot. After that, we're done talking about this.

Her tone was that of someone graciously offering a way out.

I walked to the table and opened the container.

The smell of peanut butter hit me full in the face.

I looked up at her.

Serena, I'm severely allergic to peanuts. Did you forget?

She froze. Something unnatural flickered across her face for just an instant.

II thought you used to eat it.

That's Roger. Roger's the one who likes peanut butter in his seafood congee.

I put the lid back on, calmly.

This afternoon, in the company group chat, I saw his post on social media. Said he was sick and craving the loaded congee from that place on the south side of town.

Serena's face darkened the instant she was caught. Her voice climbed a full register.

Stuart, are you seriously addicted to checking up on me now?

Roger had a rough day at the office. He didn't even eat dinner. I picked up a bowl on my way past. How does that make me a monster?

I bought an extra one and brought it home for you. You're a grown man. Do you really have to be this petty and jealous?

She was completely righteous about it. In her mind, I was the one being unreasonable.

I didn't argue.

I'm not hungry. Go ahead and eat.

I turned back to packing my clothes.

Before, something like this would have sent me straight into a fight. I would have demanded to know who she actually put first.

But now all I felt was tired.

The specific kind of tired that comes from fighting over someone who was never yours to begin with.

Serena stared at my calm back. Something about it didn't sit right with her.

What are you doing? Packing in the middle of the night?

Heading back to my hometown in a few days. I didn't turn around.

You're still throwing a fit? She let out a cold laugh. Fine. You want to go sulk at home for a few days, go ahead.

The company's swamped right now anyway. Roger can barely keep up on his own.

Whenever you're done with this little tantrum, buy yourself a ticket back.

She tossed off her coat, slammed the bedroom door behind her, and went to shower.

I folded my last coat and set it in the suitcase.

Through the rush of water from the bathroom, I took out my phone.

Opened the chat with the real estate agent.

Mr. Wang, the condo under my name. Your floor price works. I can sign the transfer contract tomorrow.

That was the apartment I'd bought back when Serena was just starting the company. Down payment from my parents' retirement savings.

I was getting rid of it overnight.

Every last thread tying me to her. I wanted none of it.

The next day, I went to the office as usual for the handover.

The entire planning department already knew I'd had a blowout with Ms. Vance the day before. The atmosphere was strange.

I had just finished organizing the files for my key client accounts.

That was when Roger walked in with Serena's secretary.

Hey, Stu. Serena said you should transfer the Grandview Corp deal to me.

He was wearing a brand-new designer shirt today. And there on his wrist, bright as ever, was my gold watch.

I looked up at him.

I've been on the Grandview deal for almost a year. We're about to sign. You just came off probation. You can't handle it.

Is it that you don't trust my abilities, Stu, or that you just can't let go of the commission? The corner of Roger's mouth twitched upward, smugness he didn't bother hiding.

Ms. Vance approved this personally. The secretary placed a document in front of me.

Serena's bold, sweeping signature across the bottomApproved for transfer.

I stared at that signature and almost laughed.

It wasn't enough for Serena to take my feelings. She had to take my work, too, and lay it at Roger's feet like a stepping stone to prop him up.

I said nothing. Signed the handover sheet, clean and quick.

Take it.

Roger scooped up the files, grinning.

Thanks, Stu. Serena was right about you. Bit of a temper, sure, but when push comes to shove, you know when to fall in line.

Oh, one more thing. Serena wants me to take over your private office. Says I'll be handling the major clients now, so I need a better setup.

He pointed at the personal items on my desk.

Stu, be a pal and have all this cleared out today, yeah?

A murmur of whispers rippled through the colleagues gathered outside the door.

Everyone in the company thought Ms. Vance had gone too far.

Kicking out the fianc who'd built the business with her, replacing him with a fresh college grad.

I picked up the framed photo of me and Serena from the desk.

It was from our first year. The two of us in that rented basement, eating instant noodles, grinning at the camera.

She'd been laughing so sincerely in that picture, telling me we were going to make something of ourselves.

I slid the photo out of the frame and fed it into the shredder beside the desk.

One click, and it was confetti.

Roger flinched at how fast I'd done it.

That was when Serena walked in.

She saw the box I was packing and her brows drew together hard.

Stuart, what are you doing?

You told me to clear out the office. I didn't even look up.

Her face tightened. She dropped her voice:

I told you to move to one of the open desks! The Grandview client specifically asked for Roger as point of contact. He needs a proper office!

Do you really have to humiliate me right now?

Be reasonable. Once the deal closes, I'll split the commission with you fifty-fifty. Isn't that enough?

She was barely holding her temper, speaking in that tone she always used when she thought she was doing someone a favor.

I placed the last photo frame into the cardboard box and looked up.

Ms. Vance, the handover checklist is signed.

I don't want a single cent of the commission.

I picked up the box, stepped around her, and walked out.

Stuart! she called after me, a thread of panic slipping into her voice that she probably didn't even hear herself. Don't burn this bridge!

I didn't slow down.

I was never the one burning bridges.

My last day at the company, Serena threw a celebration dinner at the five-star hotel across from the office to mark the Grandview Corp deal closing.

All I actually needed to do was stop by Finance in the afternoon, collect my final paycheck, and leave.

But her secretary called and said Ms. Vance required my attendance at the dinner.

Ms. Vance says you were the one who cultivated this account. If you don't show, she'll take it as a personal insult.

I looked at the suitcase I'd already packed, then changed into a plain button-down and slacks and headed to the hotel.

The banquet hall was loud with clinking glasses and small talk.

Roger was gliding between clients in an expensive dark-patterned suit, wine glass in hand.

Serena stood right beside him, shielding him from drink-for-drink toasts with fierce, almost possessive protectiveness, her eyes soft with indulgence.

Stu, why'd you show up dressed like that? Roger materialized at my side, eyes widening with fake surprise at my white shirt and casual pants.

I actually thought you weren't coming.

He held a glass of red wine and deliberately clinked it against mine.

Director Wang from Grandview praised my proposal. Serena said she's buying me a car as a reward.

He gave his wrist a little shake. The gold watch struck the crystal rim of his glass with a bright, deliberate clink.

I lifted my gaze and let it settle on his face. Cold.

Good for you.

My complete indifference was what finally set him off.

As he passed me, his elbow swung out and caught my glass. The full pour of red wine splashed straight down my chest.

My white shirt went dark red in an instant.

Gasps rippled through the room. Every eye in the hall snapped toward us.

Oh, sorry, Stu. Didn't see you standing there.

His voice was light, almost bored, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Serena strode over and pulled Roger behind her in one motion.

She took one look at the mess I was wearing, her brow creased, and her voice came out sharp with blame.

Stuart, I already let it slide that you showed up to a formal dinner in casual clothes. Now you have to cause a scene and make everyone uncomfortable?

She didn't even ask what happened. Just assumed I was making a scene, picking a fight with her precious assistant.

I stood up, pulled a few napkins from the dispenser, and calmly dabbed at the wine stain on my shirt.

He threw his drink on me, I said. Just stating the fact.

Roger didn't do it on purpose. Do you really have to stand there acting like the victim?

Serena's voice dripped with impatience.

It's a cheap shirt. I'll buy you ten to replace it.

Roger's the hero of tonight. You're a man. Can't you be a little bigger about this?

She shielded Roger like he was made of glass, terrified I might so much as touch a hair on his head.

I looked at the woman in front of me.

Through her expensive tailored blazer, I could almost see the girl from five years ago, the one who'd pulled off her jacket in the pouring rain and draped it over my shoulders.

That girl had told me once that even if the whole world misunderstood me, she would stand by my side.

That girl was long dead.

Killed off somewhere between the networking events and her own swelling arrogance.

The last hidden flicker of hope in my chest turned to ash.

Forget the replacement. I tossed the wine-soaked napkins onto the table.

You're right, Serena. It's just a cheap shirt.

Same as this relationship. Once something's been dirtied, it stays dirty.

I turned around and grabbed my jacket.

Stuart! Where do you think you're going now? Serena's voice cut sharply from behind me.

She was so used to me backing down that she thought I was just turning away to force her to chase me.

Home.

If you walk out that door, don't ever come back! She hurled a wine glass.

Fine. I didn't look back. I walked straight out of the banquet hall.

I pulled out my phone and called an Uber to the train station.

This time, I meant it.