Chapter 3: Losing Everything But Myself

I stayed home for a week before Evan finally came back, bringing Dana with him. I was zoning out on the sofa when the door opened and the two of them appeared before me.

My heart stopped. I wasn’t ready for this. I’d never be ready.

My gaze fixed on their joined hands. Despair crashed over me. I felt like a puppet, frozen, unable to think. My hands shook in my lap.

The sight of their fingers intertwined was more than I could bear. I wanted to scream, to cry, to run. But I couldn’t move.

"Harper, I want to talk to you," Evan said.

His voice was gentle, but I could hear the finality in it.

After a long moment, I heard myself whisper, "Okay."

My voice was so small, I barely recognized it.

He gave Dana a reassuring look and led her to sit down with me.

The three of us sat in silence, the tension thick and suffocating.

"These past few days, I’ve thought a lot, and I’ve finally realized—the feelings between us aren’t romantic love." His voice was as deep and pleasant as ever.

But the words felt like knives. I stared at him, willing him to take it back. Please, please, just take it back.

But why did it hurt so much to hear?

It was like losing a limb—something I’d always taken for granted, suddenly gone.

Each word he spoke felt like a knife stabbing into my chest. My mind buzzed, his words echoing in my ears. Tears streamed down my face as I clutched my chest, overwhelmed by pain.

I couldn’t breathe. The room spun. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a broken sob.

"How is it not love? We grew up together, inseparable. You promised to protect me forever, to never let anyone hurt me."

My voice cracked. I sounded like a child, begging for a bedtime story.

But in the end, why were you the one who hurt me the most?

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

Dana handed me a tissue from the coffee table, gently saying, "Here, wipe your tears."

I ignored her, staring at Evan. I wanted answers, not pity.

I didn’t take it. I looked up at Evan. "You said you’d make me the happiest princess in the world. You said—"

My words dissolved into tears. I hated myself for being so weak.

"I’m sorry, Harper. I got my feelings wrong. I mistook family affection for love. I’ve always been used to caring for you, loving you, so it felt natural for us to be together, to get married. But after meeting Dana, I finally understood what real romantic love is. I admire her, I’m attracted to her—I want to be with her. That’s the kind of feeling only men and women can have."

His explanation was logical, almost clinical. I wanted to throw something at him.

"Then what about me? You didn’t love me, but you still lived and slept with me? What was that supposed to be?" I lost it, screaming at him.

The anger boiled over, years of hurt and confusion spilling out at once.

"Anyway, I’m sorry," Evan said, sounding sincere. "If you want me to make it up to you financially, just say the word—I’ll do my best. But I have to be with Dana. I’ve finally found true love, and I don’t want to let it go."

His words were final. The door was closed.

"Take your time—sort out your feelings. Let me know if you need anything. You can keep living here—I’ll move out."

He stood up, already halfway gone.

With that, he stood up, took Dana’s hand, and walked out without looking back.

I watched them go, unable to move. The silence was deafening.

Silence fell.

I sat there, numb, until the light outside faded. Only then did I realize they weren’t coming back.

I stood there, frozen so long I went numb before snapping out of it. Like I’d finally realized what had happened, I bolted outside. But they were already gone.

I ran down the stairs, out into the street, but there was no sign of them. I was alone.

Evan had another apartment near the company. I caught a cab and went straight there. The door code was still my birthday. I burst in.

My heart pounded as I stepped inside. I wanted to believe there was still hope.

On the sofa, Evan and Dana were kissing.

The sight stopped me in my tracks. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

Startled by the sound of the door, they both looked at me. Evan instinctively shielded Dana, glaring at me with irritation.

His eyes were cold, unrecognizable. I wanted to scream.

But I couldn’t think about any of that. I only had one thought: I couldn’t lose Evan.

My mind raced, desperate for something—anything—to make him stay.

I threw away all my dignity and rushed to him.

"Tell me what I did wrong, I’ll change. Evan, please don’t leave me." I clung to his leg, sobbing. "You’re just distracted by another woman—I don’t blame you. I can pretend nothing happened. Let’s just go back to how we were, okay?"

I was as humble as I could be.

I didn’t care how pathetic I looked. All that mattered was keeping him.

I didn’t even know what I was saying. All my rationality was gone. My mind screamed: I can’t lose Evan!

I was drowning, gasping for air. Nothing else mattered.

He’d been with me since I was born—he even named me. We’d been together for over twenty years, never apart. He was my lover, my family, my companion. He’d spent more time with me than even my parents—he was part of my bones and blood.

He was the air I breathed, the ground beneath my feet. I couldn’t imagine life without him. I couldn’t let go. It felt impossible.

I was used to having him there. I never imagined we’d ever be apart. Losing him felt like tearing my flesh from my body—I just couldn’t do it. My whole body ached with loss.

The pain was physical, a deep ache in my chest.

Evan squatted down and pried my fingers off one by one, his voice firm. "Don’t do this to yourself, Harper. You’re still young—you have your whole life ahead of you. Go out and see the world. You’ll find real love one day."

His words were gentle, but final. There was no coming back from this.

I stumbled home in a daze, lying awake all night. My head spun, my body heavy. I was too tired to even cry.

I stared at the ceiling, replaying every moment, every word. Sleep never came.

At dawn, as soon as my alarm went off, I jumped out of bed. I washed up, got dressed and put on makeup, grabbed my bag, and went to work full of energy.

I forced myself into autopilot, determined to prove I was okay. Maybe if I pretended hard enough, it would become true.

I was still Evan’s assistant—I had to work hard. I wanted him to see I was capable too. If Dana could do it, so could I.

I clung to the idea that work could save me, that I could earn back his respect.

As soon as I walked into the company, everyone stared at me—some with sympathy, some just watching the show, some just enjoying the drama. Evan and Dana were openly together now, and everyone knew I’d been dumped.

The whispers followed me down the hall. I kept my head down, refusing to let them see me cry.

I fought the urge to run, kept my head down, and walked through the office to my desk. I had nothing left—I just wanted to work. But near the end of the day, Evan called me to his office.

My hands shook as I walked down the hall. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

As I walked in, I saw Dana sitting behind his desk—the seat I used to lounge in all the time. Evan, sitting on the couch, waved me over.

She spun in the chair, her expression smug. I wanted to slap her.

I didn’t move. "Just say what you need to. I still have work to do."

I kept my voice steady, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

He hesitated, as if making a decision, then looked up at me. "Harper, I want you to leave the company."

The words hit me like a slap. I stared at him, unable to speak.

I looked at this calm-faced man, feeling like I was seeing him for the first time. The Evan I remembered had always been gentle, patient, and caring. I never knew he could be this cruel.

He was a stranger now. I realized I’d never really known him at all.

This job was my last connection to him, and he was destroying it too. How could he so easily tell me to leave? After more than twenty years together, could he just throw it all away? Are all men this heartless when they fall out of love?

The betrayal was complete. There was nothing left.

"Why?" My voice shook. "I didn’t do anything wrong—why should I leave?"

I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d change his mind.

"We’ll process it as a company layoff. You’ll get full severance per policy," Evan said, utterly emotionless. "It’s not good for any of us if you stay. You don’t want to be stuck in the middle of office gossip, do you?"

His words were cold, calculated. I realized then that I meant nothing to him anymore.

Not far away, Dana scrolled her phone, spinning idly in her chair. She hadn’t said a word or even looked my way, but I knew she saw all my humiliation.

She didn’t need to gloat. Her silence said it all.

A wave of shame swept over me. I blinked, forcing back tears.

I wouldn’t let them see me cry. Not here. Not now.

"Fine, I’ll go," I said hoarsely.

My voice was barely more than a whisper. I turned and left without looking back.

Carrying my box of things out the door, I stepped into a torrential downpour. Like I’d lost my mind, I walked straight into the rain. Before long, my soggy box split open, and everything spilled onto the ground. Damn it.

I knelt in the rain, papers and trinkets scattered around me. The storm matched the chaos inside my heart.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I crouched down in the rain and sobbed. For the first time, I felt true panic. I’d been abandoned—how was I supposed to go on?

The tears came hard and fast, mixing with the rain. I felt small, helpless, utterly alone.

I was burning up—probably had a fever. Lying in bed, I clung to my blanket. I hadn’t slept well in days, was sick with a cold, my body exhausted, my mind foggy, my limbs weak. But my mind stayed painfully alert. Staring at the ceiling, I lay awake again.

The nights stretched on, endless and empty. I wondered if I’d ever feel whole again. Would I ever feel anything but this?