Vanished on Our Anniversary

When Matthew Sinclair accused me of selling company secrets, I expected my girlfriend to stand by me.

Instead, Selena Oxford told me to apologize.

To the man who framed me.

That was the moment I understood that trust was not something you pleaded for. You either had it, or you did not.

I resigned the same day, cut every tie, left a ring on the table that she would never wear, and walked out of her life without looking back.

I believed we would never cross paths again.

Eight years later, at a black-tie banquet, Selena spotted me across the crowd. I was dancing with another woman, moving through the room as if I belonged there.

In front of everyone, now known as a corporate powerhouse, she met my gaze with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Was it for her? Is that why you left me eight years ago?"

The office fell silent the instant I walked in. Cold, disgusted stares greeted me from every direction, and no one bothered to hide them.

Someone whispered anyway, "Alexander Vaughn looks so put together. He really stole company secrets? That's low."

"Guess you never really know a person. If Matthew hadn't reported him, all our overtime would've been for nothing."

They thought they were being discreet, but every word rang clear in my ears. I clenched the fabric at my side and shoved my chair back, ready to stand and defend myself.

Before I could move, Selena Oxford appeared beside me. I hadn't even heard her approach. She reached out and patted my shoulder, gentle and familiar.

"Don't take those rumors to heart," she said softly. "It's fine. I'm here with you."

We had been together since college. She was supposed to trust me without question.

Days of bottled pressure surged at once. My chest tightened. For a moment, I wanted to bury my face against her and let everything spill out.

Instead, I forced a smile and shook my head. "I'm fine."

What she said next froze that smile in place.

"Stealing company secrets is obviously wrong," she continued, speaking as if she were correcting a child. "But if you apologize to the boss, I believe he won't hold it against you. If you're scared, I'll go with you. Just don't be this reckless again, okay?"

My hand fell from my shirt.

So she didn't believe me either.

After all these years, even a casual friend would have known my character. Anyone in this company could have said those words. Anyone except her.

The frustration I had swallowed for days finally broke free.

I shot to my feet, my voice rising before I could rein it in. "I didn't steal anything. Why don't you believe me?"

Heads turned at once, conversations died, and curious, hungry gazes locked onto us.

Selena flushed under the attention and snapped back without thinking, "They called you out by name. How are you still denying it? Do you really think Matthew would frame you for no reason?"

Hearing her defend another man without hesitation made my chest seize, as if a fist had slammed into it. I wanted to punch the wall just to hear something crack.

I had seen the two of them growing closer. I had noticed every small detail. I kept telling myself our relationship was solid, that no one could come between us.

Reality struck hard enough to sting.

Matthew Sinclair walked over to my desk, his pace slow and deliberate. He glanced at Selena before speaking, his expression carefully concerned.

"Alex, reporting you was wrong. I'm sorry about that," he said with a sigh.

"But this project was built on everyone pulling all-nighters. I can't just stand by and watch you sell us out. If you're upset, take it out on me. Don't lash out at Lena." He stepped slightly in front of her, posture gallant, like a self-appointed hero.

Just like that, I became the unreasonable one.

He knew the accusation was fake. He knew it was pure slander. Yet he delivered every word with a straight face.

I almost admired the nerve.

Selena looked at him with open admiration, her eyes glossy as she sniffed softly.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "You're the one who's been wronged."

They exchanged tender, intimate looks right in front of me, as if I weren't even there.

Did they take me for a corpse?

A sharp, bitter laugh tore out of me, the kind that comes when anger has nowhere else to go. I turned and headed straight for our employer's office.

"Fine," I said. "I'll clear this up myself. Let's see whether I ever did something this dirty."

Matthew tried to stop me, but he was too late. He could only watch as I walked in, his expression darkening with every step.