Chapter 2

That very afternoon, I handed in my resignation letter.

The HR director, Neil Sanford, took off his glasses in astonishment.

"Ramon, are you sure about this? Back then, you barely scraped through with your grades, and you went through hell just to get into this firm. So, why would you just up and leave?"

I pressed my lips into a bitter smile.

Getting into this law firm was probably the most overachieving thing I had ever done in my life. But I didn't major in law, so I couldn't understand the case files or the legal statutes.

In the past, I had gritted my teeth and endured it all for Chelsea's sake. But now, I was tired. Be it a relationship or a job, if it wasn't meant to be, no amount of forcing could make it work.

"I've just come to terms with things," I replied.

Neil smiled and patted me on the shoulder. "Sometimes, taking a step back will open up a whole new world."

After we agreed on a date for my last day, I returned to my desk and got on with some paperwork.

Owen walked over to my desk with a folder in hand, his expression troubled. "Ramon, are you upset about something? This document has mistakes in it again."

Again?

I shot up from my seat and flipped open the file. After a quick glance, I shook my head.

"You've got it wrong. This wasn't my doing."

As soon as I said that, Owen's eyes slowly reddened. He looked at me and lowered his voice. "Are you mad at me? If you have a problem with me, then I apologize. But Ramon, legal work isn't child's play. You can't be this careless in your work."

I was just about to argue when Chelsea cut me off coldly, "Ramon, apologize to Owen this instant."

I jerked my head up and looked straight at her. "Chelsea, aren't you even going to ask—"

"That's not necessary. With that brain of yours, it's definitely your mistake."

Chelsea shot me a glance and made her judgment with absolute certainty. She didn't even open the file or know what we were talking about, and yet she firmly took Owen's side.

I looked at her, then at Owen standing right next to her, and something in me just snapped.

Snickers and laughter erupted all around.

"At this point, I'd just assume Owen is Chelsea's boyfriend. She's not even trying to hide her favoritism."

"You're only just realizing? The three of them had always been like this."

Chelsea shot them a look, then discreetly reached out and laced her fingers through mine.

"Just apologize to Owen. Don't make things awkward for him. I'll cook you something nice tonight," she murmured, her voice gentle and coaxing.

Her words washed over me, her palm warm against me. But my eyes prickled hot with unshed tears.

Ever since our school days, our fingers had intertwined more times than I could count.

Back then, she would argue with the teacher on my behalf to fight for a chance to retake an exam. She would ask me if I wanted to be her boyfriend while I was giving her a piggyback ride under the willow tree, her arms spread wide as if she were flying.

But now, she was forcing me to apologize for something I never did, all to save Owen from humiliation.

For the first time, I pulled my hand away from hers. Then, I looked at Owen and said, "I'm sorry."

"Ramon, you didn't have to do that," he said.

But if he really didn't want me to, he wouldn't have waited until now to say it.

"Don't coddle him. He needs to take responsibility for their own actions."

"Come on, Chelsea."

The familiar sound of their bickering closed in around me again. I stood in the middle of it all like a fool.

The iced long black I'd just downed suddenly came alive in my gut, thrashing and churning until I was shaking from the pain. Not a single person noticed I was sweating or how pale I had gone.

"See, Chelsea? I told you. Once you got involved, Ramon was bound to say sorry. Dinner's on you tonight."

The sound of their laughter drifted further and further away.

It felt as if my heart had been pierced straight through.

My stomach cramped so badly I was trembling all over. And yet, the two people I cared about the most were betting on whether I would apologize.

I dug my nails into the edge of the desk and screamed hoarsely, "Chelsea, let's break up!"

But the only reply I got was the slam of the door.