Jason didn't just walk away.
He disappeared.
No calls. No texts. No desperate pleas.
Just silence.
Which, somehow, was worse than screaming.
But I should've known better. Jason wasn't the type to stay quiet forever.
When I arrived at the office two days later, the air was thick with tension. People stared. Whispered. Paused when I walked past like I had something written across my forehead.
I didn't know what was happening—until I saw Ethan.
He was standing near the elevator, his expression carved from stone. Cold. Unreadable. But his eyes—they were burning.
"Come with me," he said.
He led me to an empty stairwell, and as soon as the door shut behind us, I felt the storm closing in.
"He reported me."
I froze. "What?"
"Jason," Ethan said through clenched teeth. "He went to HR. Told them I leaked confidential information to a competitor."
My stomach dropped. "He what?! That's insane. He knows you'd never—"
"He came with emails. Screenshots. Doctored messages. All of it fake—but convincing."
I stared at him, numb. "He's framing you."
"Oh, he's not just framing me," Ethan said darkly. "He wants to destroy me. And he's willing to burn the whole place down to do it."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't process what I was hearing.
"He's doing this because of me," I whispered.
Ethan didn't respond. Didn't have to. We both knew it was true.
"You should've picked someone else, Vanessa," he said finally, his voice low, sharp. "Anyone but me."
A beat of silence passed between us. One heavy with blame. With guilt. With all the consequences I never thought would come.
"I'm not sorry," I said, voice shaking. "For choosing you."
He looked at me like he wanted to believe me—but didn't.
And maybe I didn't believe myself either.