Chapter 6 #2
Her eyes instantly reddened, tears welling, voice turning aggrieved. "I was just trying to help you, Cassian. Luna doesn't understand your world at all. She's not right for you... I thought you were just infatuated with her temporarily..."
"Shut up." Her performance only disgusted me. "The only thing you can do is tell me what happened last night."
Maybe the undisguised murderous intent in my eyes scared her.
Her face changed. That layer of grievance peeled away, revealing a trace of resentment.
"I just... told her you were drunk and to come pick you up.
She saw the necklace and misunderstood. I explained.
She wouldn't listen. She never liked me anyway.
You know that. She can't stand anyone you get close to. .."
"So," I said, word by word, "you wore my necklace, flaunted it in front of her, told her it was your earned reward?"
"You're so cheap."
My words pierced her last pretense like a precise blade. She froze, tears still on her face, but that remaining grievance in her eyes turned into exposed, humiliated hatred.
"Then what about all those heart-to-hearts before, taking me to the gala—was that all my wishful thinking?" Her voice turned shrill. "Do you dare say you felt nothing for me? Cassian, you just used me, used my feelings to fill your emptiness!"
Her words hit like a sledgehammer, waking me up.
Yeah, what had I done? Had I given her any ambiguous signals?
Made her delusional? Even unintentionally?
I thought back to those late-night overtime talks, those nights I'd used her as a confidant.
.. I'd cultivated her delusion myself, then turned it into a weapon against Luna.
I was the biggest fool of all.
"Get out." My voice was hoarse, exhausted, emotionless. "You're fired. Leave. Now. This industry—you're done."
"No... Cassian, you can't do this, please..." Her face went deathly pale.
"Security!"
As she was dragged to the door, she whipped around, eyes crazed and venomous with desperation.
"You think getting rid of me will bring her back?
Cassian, she's not coming back! You know why?
Because she stopped loving you long ago!
From the first time you trampled on her heart, she stopped loving you! "
"GET OUT!!!"
The coffee cup smashed at her feet, shards flying. The door finally closed. The world went quiet.
I collapsed into my chair. Outside the window was Washington's bright sunlight. Everything running as usual. Only inside me was a hole, cold wind howling through it.
I made one last call to the detective. "Find her. I don't care how much it costs, how many people you need. Find her."
Then I covered my face. In this familiar office that belonged to me, I felt bone-deep loneliness for the first time.
Two months later.
I'd found nothing.
She'd vanished. All social media accounts deleted. Chloe disappeared too. The detective said someone had deliberately erased all traces of her, clean and thorough.
I started drinking. Whiskey, vodka, anything. I thought she was just a "suitable" wife, a woman I "should" love. But after she left, I discovered this house was too big, too quiet. Her scent faded bit by bit, and my heart was hollowed out bit by bit.
Only when drunk could I dream of her. Dream of her apologizing with her head down, dream of her crying curled in my arms, dream of her pressed against the window, breathing hard... Every time I woke up, I wanted to stab myself.
I'd lost her. Because of my damned arrogance, my vicious mouth, and most of all because I'd never truly believed that she loved me as a person, not for anything else.
Chloe broke in late one night. I was lying on the floor, bottles everywhere. She didn't hit me. Just crouched down and looked at me.
"If you want to be garbage, be garbage," her voice was cold. "But if you actually care about her at all, stand up. Even if she comes back someday and sees you like this, she'll turn around and leave without hesitation."
I said nothing. She snatched my bottle. "You know what your biggest problem is?"
I didn't answer.
"You treat feelings like venture capital.
" She looked at me. "The moment you realize you're starting to depend on someone, you retreat.
Because in your asshole logic, dependence equals weakness, weakness equals vulnerability, equals destruction.
So you never admitted you loved her, even when you were already head over heels. "
"I just—"
"You just don't know how to love someone." She stood up, setting down the bottle. "But that's not a fucking excuse. Cassian, you need to learn how to love. If she comes back, you need to win her back like a normal person, not command her like an asshole."
She left. I stared at the ceiling for a long time.
I loved her. These two months, in this empty tomb, I'd finally admitted it.
I started sobering up. Buried myself in work. Meetings, business trips, contracts. Stay busy, no time to think about her.
But every night, I'd still sit by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city's neon lights. Wondering where she was. If she was crying. If she hated me. If she had... someone else.
I didn't know.
I only knew that for the rest of my life, I might never find her again.