No More Nights Spent in Tears

Exhausted, I sank onto the couch and looked at the transfer notice in the company group chat.

The list was short.

Enzo Lane, project manager at headquarters.

Megan Shaw, manager's personal assistant.

A few more names followed, but mine was not on the list.

So, the company outing that evening had never been a farewell for us. It had been for them.

I stared at the screen, my hands growing colder. In the end, I still sent Enzo a message: [Did you take me off the transfer list?]

He replied right away: [If there's an opening next year, I'll try to get you transferred too. You need to learn to manage without us. Don't make everyone dislike you.]

It was always the same. Whenever I was upset, he would shut me down with just another stock excuse.

I felt my chest tighten as I read his message. For three years, I had been isolated and mistreated because he insisted on hiding our relationship. Yet he had been perfectly fine with Megan ever since she joined the company.

When I got back to staff quarters, Megan was packing, a few packed boxes already sitting on the floor. She was in a very good mood and greeted me with a smile.

I stood in the doorway and watched her for a few seconds. "When did you find out?"

She paused, but her tone stayed casual. "This afternoon. Enzo let me know early so I could get ready."

That afternoon...

So, everyone else had known before I did. I nodded and left it at that. But she came over and held my arm as if nothing had happened. "Come on, don't be upset. He said he would get you transferred next year if there's an opening, didn't he? You know he has always looked out for you."

Her carefree smile made the pain almost unbearable. If she had shown even a little consideration, maybe it would not have hurt so much. But she seemed to be so relaxed, as if her place beside Enzo was natural.

That evening, she dragged me out to dinner to celebrate their transfers early. I originally did not want to go, but I went with her anyway.

Enzo arrived soon after we sat down. Since the seafood shack was near the office, he sat on Megan's left again, while I had to sit across.

He then casually asked Megan what she wanted before opening a packet of disposable gloves and handing them to her. She told him not to bother, but he bent his head and peeled a few prawns for her anyway, setting them on her plate.

I sat across from them. My stomach kept churning, and I did not eat even a bite.

Enzo finally glanced at me. "Why aren't you eating?"

"My stomach's not feeling well," I said quietly. "I don't want anything spicy."

I thought he would at least ask if I wanted something else. Instead, he pushed my nearly untouched plate of prawns over to Megan. "Here, you can have these. You love this place, don't you?"

Megan paused in surprise, then quickly smiled and took the plate.

I sat staring at the plate of prawns, hardly able to believe it. He showed not even a hint of concern when I said I was sick. It just gave him a chance to make someone else a little happier.

For the rest of the meal, they talked about headquarters, their new office and new coworkers, as well as how they would work together.

As they talked about their future, I could not get a word in. Suddenly, I felt as if I was something that was not supposed to be there.

Only then did I understand. This dinner was not a celebration. I had been invited to sit there and watch how easily they fit together. We had been dating in secret for three years, yet I was the one who felt like an outsider.

That night, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I thought about all the little moments from those three years.

Megan was the one who went on business trips with him. She was the one beside him in his social media photos. Then, when I got drunk, he left me with another coworker and took her home himself.

I had always reassured myself that he was just keeping our relationship secret because there was a conflict of interest.

But now, I was tired.

Did I really need a friendship and a relationship like this?