It All Ends the Same

I didn’t want someone so disgusting.Anger flashed across Randall’s face. However, he quickly smothered it. He reached for my hand anyway, gently leading me toward the car. “It’s okay. If you don’t like these, I’ll get you something else next time.” When I opened the car door, my gaze immediately fell on the passenger seat. Hanging prominently was a laminated sign that read "Princess Macy’s Seat", surrounded by cutesy stickers. It was all so juvenile, so cheesy. Randall’s car was always pristine, orderly, and devoid of any personal touch. For something like this to be in his car, it spoke volumes about how far he was willing to indulge Macy. Noticing my gaze, Randall looked visibly uncomfortable. “Macy’s still a bit childish, so I let her do what she wants.”Childish? That “child” was two years older than me. I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I slid into the back seat without a word. Randall, likely relieved by my uncharacteristic silence, sighed and got into the d

I quickly composed myself and adopted the polished demeanor of a business professional. Michael and I began discussing the project as we toured the massive factory floor. Inside, rows of ceramic cat statues, intricately crafted and unique in design, lined the shelves. Harrison was a well-established company in the area, known for its significant influence. They often supported smaller businesses and cooperated with government initiatives to boost the local economy. This time, the project involved partnering with a local artisan workshop specializing in heritage crafts. The goal was to use our resources and Michael’s international channels to introduce these traditional products to foreign markets. Right in the center of the workshop stood a massive structure—a colossal ceramic cat statue, towering over 130 feet tall. The factory manager beamed with pride as he explained, “This piece is for the exhibition in a few days. We want to showcase our skill and share our culture with

I had no interest in watching their lovey-dovey act, so I waved over the stunned factory manager. "When we were touring earlier, weren’t there visitors around?" The manager thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, today’s open house. There were visitors taking a tour." "I remember seeing some of them taking pictures or recording. They helped bring the injured to the hospital earlier, right? They might still be here. Go find them." It didn’t take long before the manager rushed back, panting. "Good news. They haven’t left yet!" … The manager held out his phone, showing a video to everyone. Luckily, I’d noticed some visitors recording during the tour. The factory had been spruced up for the open house, making it look picturesque. I had hoped they’d captured the scene at the giant cat statue. The footage was clear, with no obstructions or editing. The video showed the moment the ceramic fell, and it was obvious I was standing far from the unsteady wooden shelf. Macy’s cla

"Now that I don’t love you anymore, you’re suddenly clinging to me. Aren’t you pathetic, Randall?" No matter how much I lashed out, Randall didn’t resist. He only looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Since I’d been discharged from the hospital, he’d been watching me with that same unreadable gaze. There was sorrow in his eyes, but also something deeper, something I couldn’t or didn’t want to understand. It was the same way he used to look at me when I fought tooth and nail against Macy’s intrusion into our lives. He would say, “Nara, there’s nothing between me and Macy.”However, his actions told a different story, allowing her to cross lines. Every time, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest. My hands came down on his face, again and again. "Stop looking at me like that, Randall. If you don’t, don’t blame me if I gouge your eyes out in your sleep." Finally, Randall got the hint and moved out. He didn’t stay gone. Every day, he was there. Someti

“I let you down.”I nodded, not denying it. “Sign the papers. We’re adults. No need to make this uglier than it already is.” Randall slid the divorce agreement across the table. “I’ve made some changes. The house, the car, the shares in the company are all yours. I don’t want anything.” He chuckled bitterly. “When you’re the one who screwed up, you don’t get to make demands.” Without hesitation, I signed my name. I didn’t worry about Randall ending up on the streets. Why waste concern on someone unworthy of it? After all, I’m a tough, no-nonsense woman. “See you in court next Monday at 9 a.m.”…On the way home, I spotted Macy looking worse for wear. Ever since Randall kicked her out of Harrison and blacklisted her in the industry, Macy had struggled to find a foothold. She’d once been Randall’s favorite, parachuted into a senior assistant role. Now, with no skills or education to back her up, life had turned harsh. An older woman was berating Macy. “You’ve been he