Chapter 5

I shook my head impatiently, standing firm on my resignation. I added, "Phoebe, I don't know how I survived the last eight years, but right now, one thing is crystal clear: I'm breaking up with you."

Her eyes widened in disbelief as the corners of her eyes welled up with tears. "Just because of this position? Damien, why are you throwing a fit? I'm doing all of this for our company."

David patted her shoulder sympathetically before turning to speak to me in a serious tone. Yet a faint, smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Kid, don't throw away five years over a bruised ego. If you're doing this because of me, then I simply won't join the company. Stop acting so unprofessional."

Looking at the hypocrite standing in front of me, I felt nothing but disgust. My patience ran out, so I turned and walked toward the door.

Phoebe suddenly called out behind me, "Damien, stop right there! If you walk out that door, we're really over."

I let out a cold laugh. "Great. That's exactly what I want."

…

While I was at my desk packing up my things, Phoebe chased after me and grabbed my arm. She insisted I hadn't properly transferred my project files and tried to block me from leaving.

Even though I cleared my computer's password and transferred every single project file off the hard drive, she kept causing a scene.

In the middle of our argument, she knocked my external hard drive off the desk, shattering it on the floor. That drive held years of architectural drawings and research materials I had painstakingly organized.

A flash of genuine anger finally cracked my indifferent expression, which seemed to satisfy her.

"What do you want?" I asked.

She smiled, thrilled. "I want you to stay at the company and help me."

"And if I say no?"

She leaned in close to my ear, her voice vicious. "Then I'll go public with David, and no one will ever know you were anything more than an employee."

I looked at the woman threatening me and found her utterly annoying. "Whatever."

After leaving the building, I immediately contacted my former architecture mentor, Professor Brown.

"Professor, I regret quitting. Is there still a place for me in the research team?"

Looking at the piles of architectural drafts covering his desk, my mentor replied stubbornly, "Nonsense! Do you think academic research is a revolving door where you can just come and go as you please?"

Feeling guilty, I apologized repeatedly, my voice trembling slightly.

"I was wrong. After stepping away from architectural research all these years, I finally realized how deeply I love it. I only feel true happiness when I'm immersed in it. Please, can you give me another chance?"

Professor Brown let out a sigh. "Fine. But you've been out of touch for years, so you're definitely rusty. If you rejoin the team, you'll have to start from the bottom doing basic drafting."

I gladly accepted. As long as I was back on the team, I had a chance to sharpen my skills again.

Meanwhile, Phoebe stormed back into her office, completely disappointed and red-eyed from anger.

David wrapped his arms around her, coaxing her gently. "Damien is just heated right now. He's like a kid; you just need to humor him.

"How about this? At my homecoming party in a few days, invite a bunch of friends and surprise Damien by officially announcing your relationship with him. He's probably just feeling wronged after having to keep it a secret all these years."

Phoebe looked guiltily at him. "That's asking too much of you. It'll steal the spotlight from your homecoming."

"It's fine. This way, you won't have to go through the trouble of hosting a separate event."

When I got home, Cora, who rarely showed weakness, was sitting at a dining table scattered with photos, tears streaming down her face.

The photos were all of me—pulling all-nighters at Phoebe's company, drinking heavily at business dinners on her behalf, which landed me in the hospital with stomach pains, no less than five times. Pictures of me with scars on my hands from cooking for her; doing all the housework and catering to her every need at home.

While I was running myself ragged between home and the office, Phoebe was constantly flying overseas under the guise of "business trips" just to see David.

Cora gathered the photos with a heartbroken expression, her tone gradually filling with rage. "When you suddenly went low-profile after chasing her so intensely for three years, I knew you two had gotten together."