The Billionaire She Rejected.

I wasn’t supposed to be there.

I wasn’t supposed to walk into the conference room early.

And I damn sure wasn’t supposed to see my boyfriend of three years buried between my boss’s legs, her manicured nails digging into his shoulders as she moaned his name like it was hers to keep.

But I did.

I saw it all, every sickening second.

Frozen in the doorway, I became a ghost. Air fled my lungs. My heart stopped. Time bent around me as if even it wanted to shield me from what I was witnessing.

But nothing could soften the blow.

The desk. The papers. Her heels half-off. His belt somewhere on the floor. Her, Celeste, my boss, gripping the edge of her desk like she owned the building, and him, Eric, moving like he hadn’t spent three years telling me I was the only one.

Her moans kept echoing in my ears long after they stopped.

The betrayal was so loud I couldn’t hear myself breathe.

My hands shook. I pinched myself, hard, praying this was a hallucination. A twisted dream.

It wasn’t.

Some truths break you slowly. This one shattered me all at once.

I dropped the reports in my hands. They fell like feathers, but the sound was deafening. It cut through the illusion like a blade.

Eric’s head snapped around. His face drained of color.

He scrambled off her, fumbling with buttons, dragging his shirt back over his shame. He couldn’t even find his belt.

“Riley…” he choked.

“Don’t.”

My voice was ice. A single word that cut deeper than any scream ever could.

Celeste didn't flinch. Didn’t bother hiding. She stood up with all the grace of someone who'd planned this.

“You weren’t scheduled until ten,” she said, buttoning her silk blouse slowly. Smirking. Like she'd won.

Maybe she had.

I didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of my tears, not yet. I turned and walked out. My heels clicked against the tile like gunshots.

But my soul felt like it was bleeding.

****

I don’t remember the drive home.

My body moved on autopilot. My mind? Burned. Over and over. That scene. His face. Her smirk. Their bodies tangled where I worked.

Three years.

Three years of loyalty, of love, of believing he was mine.

Gone.

I opened a bottle of wine. Then another.

But the ache didn’t numb. It just grew teeth.

How long had it been going on?

Was this the first time?

Or just the first time they got caught?

My phone buzzed.

Aria.

 “Hey girl, what’s up?”

Her voice was sunshine.

Mine was wreckage.

“Aria…” I whispered.

A pause. “Riley? Are you okay? Wait... are you crying?”

“I saw them,” I croaked, each word like glass in my throat. “Eric. And Celeste. In her office.”

Silence.

Then, “Wait. WHAT?! Eric and Celeste?! Your boss?!”

“They didn’t even notice me at first,” I said. A dry, broken laugh slipped out. “I stood there like I was nothing.”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“I’m coming over right now,” Aria snapped. “Don’t move. I swear to God, Riley, stay on the phone. I’m grabbing my keys.”

I slid to the floor, the phone cradled against my cheek.

“It hurts,” I whispered. “I feel like I’m coming apart.”

“You are allowed to break. But you’re not staying broken,” Aria said. Her voice cracked. “You hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

A sob clawed its way out of me. “I gave him everything.”

“And he treated you like nothing.” Aria’s voice darkened. “He doesn’t deserve your tears. And that witch Celeste? May karma chew her up slowly.”

I gave a weak, trembling laugh.

“I sound pathetic, don’t I?”

“No. You sound like someone who loved. That’s never pathetic.”

“I don’t feel strong.”

“Then lean on me,” she said softly. “Pink blanket. Couch. Ten minutes. I’m coming.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

When the call ended, I curled into the corner of the couch. The soft blanket barely touched the storm inside me. The wine didn’t help.

But Aria would be here.

And she wouldn’t leave.

Not like he did.

  Outside, lightning split the sky. A storm was coming.

And maybe, for once, I was ready to burn.