I thought blocking Lucas would end it.
I underestimated him.
At nine that morning, someone knocked on my apartment door.
Three times.
Slowly.
I looked through the peephole and almost laughed.
Lucas Ward stood outside.
Same black suit from the photograph.
Same white shirt.
No tie.
His hair was messy, and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes.
He looked nothing like the polished CEO whose wedding announcement had received thousands of congratulations.
I opened the door but didn’t invite him inside.
—How did you find me?
Lucas stared at me.
—Why did you quit?
No hello.
No congratulations.
No explanation for the 328 calls.
I folded my arms.
—I submitted a legal resignation letter. HR approved it.
—That’s not what I asked.
—Then ask HR again.
His jaw tightened.
—Nina.
For four years, hearing him say my name like that had been enough to make me surrender.
Not anymore.
His gaze moved past me toward the boxes.
Something in his expression broke.
—You really moved.
—Usually that’s what people do after renting an apartment.
—Without telling me.
I laughed.
—You got married without telling me.
Silence.
Lucas’s face changed.
—So you did leave because of Victoria.
—Don’t flatter yourself.
I stepped closer.
—I left because four years of my life disappeared into yours.
His eyes darkened.
—I remembered your schedule better than my own. I spent Christmas Eve fixing a presentation because you decided to change the acquisition plan at midnight. I missed my father’s birthday twice because you needed me on business trips.
Lucas lowered his voice.
—I never forced you.
That sentence finished whatever tenderness was left inside me.
—Exactly.
I smiled.
—You never asked what any of it cost me either.
He went completely still.
I reached for the door.
—Go home, Lucas. Your wife is probably wondering where you are.
His hand caught the door before I closed it.
—Victoria isn’t my wife in the way you think.
I stared at him.
—There’s a marriage certificate online.
—I know.
—Your names are on it.
—I know.
—Then congratulations again.
I tried closing the door.
—The marriage lasts six months.
I stopped.
Lucas exhaled.
—It’s an agreement between our families.
Of course.
A corporate marriage.
Perfectly Lucas.
—Ward Technologies needed Shaw Capital’s voting support for the merger. Victoria needed control of the shares her grandfather placed under a marriage condition.
He looked exhausted.
—We registered the marriage. After the shareholder restructuring, we’ll divorce.
I stared at him.
Then I laughed.
Lucas frowned.
—What’s funny?
—You.
My eyes burned.
—You called me 328 times because you’re worried I misunderstood your fake marriage?
—No.
His answer came immediately.
—I called because you liked the post.
I blinked.
—What?
Lucas stepped closer.
—You liked it.
His voice became strangely rough.
—You didn’t call. You didn’t ask. You didn’t get angry.
I had never seen him look so unsettled.
—For four years, whenever something happened to me, you were the first person to react.
He swallowed.
—Then I posted that I married someone else…and all you gave me was a heart icon.
I stared at him in disbelief.
—What exactly did you expect, Lucas? That I’d cry in the comments?
—Anything.
That single word silenced me.
—Anger. An insult. A question.
His eyes reddened.
—Anything that meant I still mattered to you.
I looked at him for a long moment.
Then I understood.
The powerful Lucas Ward had finally encountered something he couldn’t negotiate with.
My indifference.
—You do matter.
Hope appeared in his eyes.
I finished:
—You were my boss for four years.
His face went pale.
I closed the door.
This time he didn’t stop me.
A month later, I started working at Sterling Capital.
Not as an assistant.
As an investment analyst.
My salary was lower at first, but my name appeared on my own reports.
My ideas belonged to me.
I went home at six more often than midnight.
For the first time, I discovered I actually had weekends.
Lucas didn’t call again.
But flowers arrived every Monday.
I returned them.
Coffee appeared once.
I sent it to Mia.
Then a package arrived containing my old office notebook.
Inside was a handwritten note.
You built half the things people praise me for. I’m sorry I noticed only after you left.
I kept the notebook.
Not the note.
Three months later, Sterling Capital competed against Ward Group for the largest renewable-energy acquisition of the year.
I led our analysis team.
When I entered the final negotiation room, Lucas was sitting across the table.
His eyes found mine immediately.
But he didn’t smile.
He didn’t mention our past.
For six hours, we fought over numbers like strangers.
I won.
Sterling secured the deal.
Afterward, my managing director shook my hand.
—Outstanding work, Collins.
Across the room, Lucas heard him.
For years, people had introduced me as Lucas Ward’s assistant.
That evening, for the first time, he watched a room applaud me without his name attached.
As I entered the elevator, Lucas followed.
The doors closed.
—Congratulations.
I glanced at him.
—Thank you.
—You destroyed my pricing model.
—It was badly designed.
His mouth twitched.
—You designed the original version.
—I improved after leaving you.
That wiped away his smile.
The elevator descended.
Then Lucas said quietly:
—Victoria and I divorced yesterday.
I looked straight ahead.
—Congratulations.
He laughed bitterly.
—You really love saying that to me.
—It’s polite.
—Nina.
I turned.
—What do you want?
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
—A chance.
I almost sighed.
—Lucas—
—Not because you worked for me. Not because I miss having someone fix my life.
He stepped closer but maintained his distance.
—I spent four years thinking the reason I looked for you first every morning was because you were competent.
His voice softened.
—I thought the reason I hated seeing you laugh with other men was because they distracted you. I thought the reason every hotel felt wrong when you weren’t on the trip was because you knew my schedule.
He smiled faintly.
—I was apparently an idiot.
—Apparently?
—Definitely.
Despite myself, I laughed.
Lucas stared at me as if he hadn’t heard that sound in years.
Then he said:
—Dinner.
—No.
—Coffee.
—No.
—Ten minutes.
—You negotiated billion-dollar acquisitions better than this.
—None of them terrified me.
The elevator opened.
I walked out.
He didn’t follow.
That mattered.
Lucas asked me out seven more times over the next five months.
I rejected him six times.
The seventh time, I said yes.
Not because he wore me down.
Because he changed.
He stopped sending gifts.
Stopped using assistants to discover my schedule.
Stopped appearing wherever I happened to be.
He simply asked.
And when I said no, he accepted it.
We dated for almost two years.
Slowly.
Awkwardly.
Honestly.
One night, Lucas took me to the rooftop of our old office building.
There were no photographers.
No families.
No business partners.
He handed me his phone.
On the screen was the old wedding post with Victoria.
—Why are you showing me this?
—Look at the likes.
I scrolled.
There was my name.
Nina Collins.
One red heart.
Lucas smiled.
—That was the most terrifying notification I’ve ever received.
I laughed.
—You deserved it.
—Absolutely.
Then he deleted the post.
He put the phone away.
And instead of taking out a ring, he asked:
—If I propose someday, would you say no?
I considered him.
—Probably.
He nodded.
—Good. Then I still have work to do.
Six months later, when he finally asked properly, I said yes.
And on the day we posted our marriage certificate, Mia was the first person to like it.
Lucas looked at the screen and laughed.
—Just one like?
I kissed his cheek.
—Relax. This wife isn’t resigning tomorrow.
His arms tightened around me.
For four years, I had believed loving Lucas meant making myself indispensable to him.
I was wrong.
Real love began only after I learned how to leave…and he learned how to choose me before losing me again.
