He Never Said Goodbye, So I Did

He glanced at the screen and picked up immediately, his voice softening. “Ingrid? What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared of being alone,” her voice came through faintly.

“I’m coming back now,” he said right away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.”

He stood up without hesitation. Then he paused, as if remembering I was still there.

“Naomi,” he said, letting out a breath. “You’ve got me, you’ve got the best doctors. But Ingrid has nothing. Stop picking on her all the time.”

Then he left.

Just like that.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling.

He said I had him. But didn’t I already lose him a long time ago?

The next few days, he didn’t come back. Not once.

And this time, I didn’t care.

I just listened to the doctor, took my medicine, and focused on getting better. Slowly, painfully, I healed.

When I was finally discharged, I didn’t even get to go home first. I was called straight back to the company.

A meeting.

The atmosphere in the room was tense.

Ingrid stood in the middle, eyes red, looking like she’d been crying for hours.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

No one bought it.

The board members were furious. Accusing her one after another. Saying she leaked confidential information to a business partner. Saying she crossed a line no one should ever cross.

“Enough,” Bernard said suddenly, his voice cold and firm.

The room went quiet.

“I believe she didn’t do it on purpose,” he continued. “And even if she did, it’s not your call to deal with her.”

People frowned. Someone spoke up. “Mr. MacAllister, this isn’t something we can ignore. She has to be removed.”

Bernard didn’t even hesitate.

“I’ve already transferred thirty five percent of my shares to Ingrid,” he said. “She’s a shareholder now. Not an employee. No one here has the authority to fire her.”

My mind went blank.

Thirty five percent.

Do you know how long it took me to get that? Ten years. Ten years of working beside him, building everything from nothing. And she got the same amount… in less than a month.

Just because he wanted to protect her.

He once told me the company would always belong to the two of us.

Now there were three.

Just like our marriage.

I lowered my eyes and let out a quiet laugh. It sounded calm, but my nails were digging deep into my palm, so hard it almost hurt more than my ribs.

No one dared to argue anymore. With him backing her, the board had no choice. One by one, they left, frustrated but silent.

I stood up too. I didn’t want to stay there any longer.

Right then, the door opened.

Two police officers walked in.

“Good afternoon,” one of them said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “We received a report about stolen and leaked trade secrets. The name Ingrid was mentioned. Is she here?”

The room went completely still.

Ingrid hid behind Bernard, wiggling her finger at him like she wanted help.

Bernard just stared for a long moment. Then he finally said, “It wasn’t her.”

All eyes turned to him.

“We looked into it ourselves,” he continued, voice low but sharp. “It wasn’t Ingrid who did it. The real mastermind… was you, Naomi.”

He pointed straight at me.

“What did you say?” My voice trembled. “Say it again. Who?”

He stepped closer and grabbed my hand, his grip firm, heavy, like I couldn’t pull away. “If Ingrid had a record, she’d be done in this city, done in this industry. But you, you’ve got me. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out.”

Then he turned and handed a USB to the police, saying nothing else, just calm and businesslike. “This is the evidence. Naomi did it.”

My blood ran cold, and a chill shot from my feet to my chest.

He even made fake evidence. No way out.

I jerked my hand away and glared at him, tears stinging my eyes. Ten years ago he swore he’d love and protect me for life. And this… this is what that meant?

I felt utterly pathetic.

At the station, I tried to explain. Again and again. I told them I didn’t do it, that it was all fake, that he set me up. They didn’t care. They looked at me with that same expression. Doubt. Annoyance. Then the lawyer came in. Said I was unstable. Said I was under too much stress. That I wasn’t in the right state of mind to even understand what I was saying.

“Miss Naomi needs evaluation,” he said calmly. “She’s showing signs of emotional instability. It’s better if she receives treatment.”

Treatment? I wanted to laugh. Before I could argue, they already made the decision. I wasn’t sent to jail. I was sent somewhere worse. A private mental institution. High walls. Locked doors. White everywhere. Too clean. Too quiet. The moment I stepped in, I knew something was wrong. The nurses looked at me without warmth. The doctors didn’t ask questions. They just wrote things down.

“The patient shows resistance,” one of them said.

“I’m not sick,” I told them, my voice hoarse. “You’re making a mistake.”

They didn’t listen. They strapped me down. The first day, they injected something into my arm. I felt my body go heavy, my mind slow, like I was sinking into something I couldn’t escape. The second day, they kept me awake. Lights on. Questions repeated over and over.

“Did you do it?”

“Admit it.”

“Why won’t you cooperate?”

I said no. Every time. They didn’t like that. The third day… they changed methods. Cold water. They held my head down, forcing me to stay under just long enough to panic, then pulling me back up before I passed out. Again and again until I couldn’t even think straight.

“See?” one of them said calmly. “She’s still resisting.”

By the third day, I couldn’t even tell what was real. My hands shook, my chest burned, and every step felt like walking through a nightmare

Those three days in that place felt worse than death. By the time they let me out, my mind was empty and slow. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even tell what was real anymore.

I didn’t realize the car I got into wasn’t safe. The lawyer who said Bernard sent him… he wasn’t Bernard’s man at all.

Everything was a setup.

Bernard pushed someone too far this time. Forced a partner into a corner, crushed his business, left him with nothing. So now he was fighting back.

And I got dragged into it.

So did Ingrid.

The car drove for a long time. No one spoke. My head leaned against the window, eyes half-closed, until it finally stopped. Hands grabbed me again, rough, impatient, dragging me out.

The smell of the sea hit me first.

Then I saw him.

“Sandro…?” My voice came out weak. My chest tightened. “President Moore… you don’t have to do this. We can talk this out. There’s still a way to fix this.”

He looked at me and laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just anger.

“Talk?” he sneered. “If talking worked, your man wouldn’t have destroyed everything I built. He backed me into a corner, Naomi. You think I’ve got anything left to lose?”

My heart sank.

“You people started this,” he continued, eyes burning. “You leaked secrets, crushed my company, and now you want me to sit down and talk? No. If I’m going down, I’m taking all of you with me.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Bernard,” he said the moment the call connected. “Both your women are with me. You’ve got one hour. Bring five hundred million in cash. If you don’t… I’ll burn one alive and drown the other.”