My Fiancée Drank From Her Assistant’s Glass, So I Ended Our Engagement

I didn't look back.

"Think whatever you want."

Back home, I started clearing out everything connected to her.

The photo albums were full of good memories.

But as I burned them, I felt nothing. Not even a ripple.

Maybe that's what it really meant when a heart finally died.

At dinner, my parents noticed something was off.

Mom placed a piece of braised pork in my bowl and asked softly, "Drew, honey, is something going on?"

"You seem like you've got a lot on your mind."

Dad set down his newspaper too, his eyes full of quiet concern.

I stared at the food in my bowl. After a long silence, I finally spoke.

"Dad. Mom. I've decided to go abroad to study."

The air seemed to freeze.

Mom's hand paused mid-reach. Dad's brow furrowed slightly.

They exchanged a glance, and something unspoken passed between them.

"You're sure?" Dad's voice was steady. No questioning. No attempt to talk me out of it.

"Yeah. I'm sure." I nodded, my voice firm.

Mom let out a quiet sigh and reached over to pat my shoulder. "Back then, you gave up your chance to study overseas for Cheryl. If this is what you've decided now, we're behind you."

A flicker of heartache crossed her eyes, but beneath it was something closer to relief.

Dad lifted his tea, took a slow sip, and said evenly, "Getting out might do you good. A change of scenery helps you see things more clearly."

"As for the arranged engagement your grandfather set up, I'll explain things to the Delgados."

I lowered my head. A sour ache bloomed in my chest.

When I'd given up studying abroad to start the company with Cheryl, my parents hadn't said a word against it. But I knew they'd carried that regret quietly all these years.

And now, after everything, I'd come full circle. Right back to where I started.

After dinner, I went to my room and opened the app to book a flight.

My phone buzzed. A message from Cheryl.

"Zenith Group sent someone over. They specifically asked to see you."

"I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

I stared at the screen, jaw tight.

Zenith Group was the company's biggest client. I'd managed that account personally. Years of work, years of relationship-building.

I hesitated for a long time before typing back: "Got it."

Ten minutes later, a black sedan pulled up in front of my house.

The window rolled down. Cheryl leaned out, impatience threading through her voice. "Get in. Don't keep Uncle Rufus waiting."

My gaze drifted to the passenger seat. Douglas turned his head and flashed me a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Mr. Dickerson." His voice was warm, but his gaze clung like something venomous. "It's an honor to accompany you to meet such an important client."

I let out a cold laugh and stepped back.

"Go without me. I'm not coming."

Cheryl's expression shifted instantly.

"Drew! What is that supposed to mean?"

"Uncle Rufus asked for you by name, and you're pulling this now?"

I looked at Douglas. Said nothing.

Right on cue, he ducked his head and put on a wounded expression. "Mr. Dickerson, if I've done something wrong, I sincerely apologize."

"But work comes first. Please don't let me be the reason you miss something important."

As he spoke, his eyes began to redden at the rims, as if he'd suffered some tremendous injustice.

Cheryl's brow creased at the sight. Her voice turned sharp. "Drew, Douglas has already humbled himself. What more do you want?"

"Don't push it!"

Douglas bit his lower lip at just the right moment, his voice trembling. "Ms. Delgado, maybe I should just get out of the car. I don't want to make things difficult for Mr. Dickerson."

He made a show of reaching for his seatbelt, but his hands moved so slowly it was like someone had hit the pause button.