A Cold New Year

By the time I finished packing, it was well past midnight.

I slipped the ring off my finger and placed it on the entryway cabinet. Kian gave it to me during his first year of work.

Although it was not expensive, I’d treasured it as if it were priceless. I rarely even took it off to shower.

Now, all I felt when I looked at it was irony.

Back when Kian had nothing, he was burdened by the crushing weight of medical debt from his parents' illnesses. Creditors had shown up at his door almost daily, yelling insults and demanding payment.

I had drained every cent of my savings to help him repay everything. I worked a full-time job by day and ran a street stall by night, once collapsing from sheer exhaustion to sleep right on the curb.

Back then, Kian had held me in his arms and cried. He made a solemn vow. If he ever turned his back on me, he deserved to be struck by lightning.

Now that he’d finally achieved success, the first thing he did was to abandon the very person who stood by him through those years of hardship.

How tragically poetic.

Before heading to the train station the next morning, I instinctively checked my phone.

Kian and Isabel had both updated their socials.

Kian posted a vlog with the caption: "Morning, corporate slaves."

In the vlog, he stood in pajamas, brushing his teeth. In the mirror behind him, there was the reflection of another pink toothbrush holder.

Then the camera cut to a carefully prepared breakfast spread. Two gourmet sandwiches and two hands clasped together across the table.

Isabel’s post was even more shameless. "Going to work with the boss today. Feeling happy!"

The attached selfie showed her sitting in Kian’s passenger seat while he drove beside her, focused on the road.

So he hadn’t gone back to the office or come home last night. He’d spent the night at Isabel’s.

I stared at the screen and let out a cold laugh. The tiny shred of hope I’d still been clinging to finally disappeared completely.

At first, I’d considered leaving him a note before I left, to provide a dignified conclusion to our relationship.

Now, that would've been a waste of effort.

I headed downstairs, hailed a ride, and directed the driver to Kian's office.

My intention wasn't to beg or cause a public disturbance. I simply needed to witness the full extent of his audacity. I considered it the final punctuation to our seven-year relationship, even if it was stained with his betrayal.

After arriving at Kian's office, I didn’t head up immediately. I stopped at the convenience store nearby and bought a coffee.

A few young women wearing company ID badges stood nearby gossiping together.

"Did you guys see Isabel today? She looked so smug. That hickey on her neck was barely covered."

"Please. Everyone knows exactly how she climbed the ladder. And, of all people, Mr. Newman seriously picked her?"

"Men are all the same once they get rich. I heard Mr. Newman takes Isabel into his office all the time during lunch breaks. Closes the door and everything. Who knows what they’re doing in there?"

"No way. Seriously?"

"Why would I lie? One of the cleaning ladies went in afterward once and said the couch smelled like sex."

My fingers tightened so hard around the coffee cup that they turned white.

So their affair had already become public gossip throughout the company. I was the only idiot still believing all his excuses about overtime and business trips.

I took a deep breath and strode into the elevator.

Upon reaching the floor where Kian's office was located, the hallway was dead silent.

No one sat at the secretary’s desk. They were probably in the restroom.

I walked toward the familiar mahogany office door. The moment my hand touched the handle, laughter drifted out from inside.

"Mr. Newman, you’re awful… You kept me up all night, and now you still want more in broad daylight…" Isabel’s voice sounded sweet and breathless.

"Who told you to start begging so soon last night?" Kian teased lazily. "I wasn’t finished with you yet. Didn’t you just say in the car that you wanted more? So I’m giving it to you."

"Oh my, not here… someone might hear us…"

"What’s there to be scared of? The office door is soundproof. Besides, who’d dare walk in here without knocking?"

Then came the rustle of fabric.

I looked through the narrow crack in the door.

Isabel was sitting on top of Kian’s desk while Kian buried his face against her chest, his hands roaming across her body.

For a second, it felt like my entire skull was about to split open. A violent ringing filled my ears, and my stomach churned in a tight, painful knot.

Was this what he called working?

I reached for my phone, hands shaking, desperate to capture it all on video.

Regardless of how disgusting it was, I needed evidence. I had to have something that would prevent him from ever acting like the loyal fiance again.

However, just as I lifted my phone, my elbow accidentally hit the door.

Thunk.

The dull sound echoed loudly down the silent hallway.

Everything instantly came to a halt.

Kian jerked his head toward the door.

Our eyes met.