He Never Said Goodbye, So I Did

Then his voice came, deeper, rougher than the one he used with me. “Mr. McAllister? Call me that again and I’ll stop right here. You testing me, huh?”

There was a small laugh, “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean it…”

“Then say it right,” he said, low and coaxing, like he had all the patience in the world for her. “What do you call me?”

A pause. Then softly, almost shy. “Baby…”

“Good girl,” he muttered.

My nails dug into my palm so hard it hurt. Even after everything, after knowing how this all ended, my heart still cracked open like it was new. Why did it still hurt? Haven’t I died once already?

I stood there for a long time. I don’t even know how long. Long enough for the sounds to fade, for silence to come back.

Then I lifted my hand and knocked.

“Come in.”

When I pushed the door open, Bernard was already behind his desk, perfectly composed. Tie straight, expression calm, like nothing happened. Like there wasn’t a woman still hidden somewhere in that room.

His eyes landed on me and narrowed slightly. “What are you doing here?”

Cold. Just like always.

“I brought something for you to sign,” I said, walking in slowly.

I took the document out of my bag, flipped to the last page, and slid it across the desk toward him.

“What is it?” he asked, already reaching for a pen, barely even looking.

Before he could read, there was a soft sound under the desk. A small, muffled breath.

His hand paused for half a second. Then he leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat, like he was covering it up.

I didn’t look down.

I just tightened my grip on my bag until my fingers hurt. I could taste bitterness in my throat, thick and choking, but I swallowed it anyway.

“It’s nothing important,” I said. “Just some property transfer stuff.”

He didn’t question it.

Of course he didn’t. Why would he? I was just his wife. The boring one. The one who handled things quietly and never caused trouble.

“Next time, just have someone bring it over. You don’t need to come here for this kind of crap.”

I almost laughed.

Is it because you’re worried I’ll get tired… or because you’re scared I’ll see her?

“It’s fine. Just this once. You’re busy anyway. I won’t take up your time.”

He hummed, distracted, and signed his name without another glance. Quick. Clean. Like it meant nothing.

The divorce agreement.

Just like that.

I took the papers back, my hands steady.

“Get some rest at home,” he added, not even looking at me anymore. “You look like shit.”

I nodded. “I will.”

Then I turned and walked out.

The moment the door closed behind me, I pulled out my phone. My fingers didn’t shake this time.

I dialed the number.

“It’s me,” I said when the line connected. “I’m selling thirty five percent of MacAllister Group shares. Low price.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“When do we sign?”

“One month,” I said. “We’ll finalize everything in one month.”

That was when the divorce would take effect.

And when that happened, I would walk away from everything I built with my own hands. The company. The name. All of it.

I lowered the phone slowly after the call ended.

Bernard.

In my last life, you hated me for sending her away. You destroyed my entire world for that one decision.

This time…

I’ll give you exactly what you want. And then I’ll take everything you never thought you could lose.

Before I left, I stopped by the restroom.

I splashed some water on my face, stared at myself in the mirror for a second. Pale. Tired. Empty. I almost didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me.

When I walked out, I ran straight into her.

Ingrid.

She was walking toward me like she owned the place.

“Mrs. MacAllister... You’re still here?”

Her shirt was slightly open, just enough to show the marks on her skin. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. She wanted me to see.

I stopped and looked at her properly.

In my past life, I crushed her in less than a day. I used everything I had, pressure, threats, money, until she backed off and left for New York on her own.

Now?

I was too tired.

Too tired to fight. Too tired to care.

I looked away and walked past her without saying a word.

I didn’t even make it five steps when a hot liquid splashed across my back.

I flinched. The heat burned through my clothes instantly.

“Oh!” Ingrid gasped behind me, way too dramatic. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to.”

I turned slowly.

She was holding an empty coffee cup, her lips trembling like she was about to cry. But her eyes… her eyes were smiling.

“I just…” she continued softly, lowering her gaze. “President MacAllister kept me busy earlier. I guess I used too much energy. My hands are still shaking.”

My stomach twisted.

Images flashed in my head without permission. Him and her. In that office. Right above where I was standing.

I felt sick.

I didn’t want to deal with this. Not anymore. But that didn’t mean she got to walk all over me.

Before I could think twice, I stepped forward and slapped her.

The sound echoed down the hallway.

Her head snapped to the side.

And right at that moment, the office door opened.

Bernard walked out.

Ingrid reacted fast. Faster than I expected. She dropped to the floor right in front of me, covering her face, her body trembling.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. MacAllister,” she cried, “I didn’t mean it, please don’t be mad at me. I know I was careless.”

Bernard’s expression darkened instantly.

“What the hell is going on?” he snapped, already moving toward her.

He shoved me aside without even looking.

My back, already burned from the coffee, slammed into the corner of the wall. Pain shot through me and I sucked in a breath, but he didn’t notice. Of course he didn’t.

He crouched down in front of her, “Hey. Look at me. What happened?”

Ingrid sniffed, clinging to his sleeve. “I felt dizzy… I think my blood sugar dropped. I didn’t see properly and spilled coffee on Mrs. MacAllister. She got angry and slapped me. I understand… I really do but my head still feels so light…”

His jaw tightened.

Then he looked up at me.

That look. Cold. Sharp. Full of blame.

“She’s just a kid! An intern. You really had to hit her over something like that? What’s wrong with you?”

I stared at him.

A kid?

So that’s what she was now?

He didn’t wait for my answer. He slid one arm under Ingrid and lifted her up carefully, like she was something fragile.

“Easy,” he muttered to her. “I’ve got you.”

And then he carried her back into the office.

Just like that.

I stood there, watching his back disappear, and something inside me finally broke.

Tears fell before I could stop them.