When I returned to the office, the application form on Daniel Swanson's desk hadn't moved. The HR rep told me Daniel was out for two days attending a wedding.
I snapped a photo of the form and texted it to him.
Half an hour later, my phone rang.
"Audrey, fill out the digital version and email it to me."
"I sent it this morning, Mr. Swanson."
"Oh, right." He sounded distracted. "Haven't checked my inbox. It's been chaos. Mr. James invited me to an engagement banquet last minute. Completely forgot about work."
*Mr. James... engagement banquet?*
The phone slipped in my sweaty palm. A terrible suspicion took root.
Does he really plan to hide the *entire engagement* from me?
I didn't dare ask Daniel for details. I was afraid the truth would kill the last shred of me still holding on.
"Enjoy the party, sir," I managed to choke out.
I left work and went back to Matthew's villa. Dark. Cold. Empty.
Without him, it wasn't a home. Just a house.
Mechanically, I opened social media. Scrolled mindlessly until my thumb stopped.
Daniel Swanson had posted a video.
*Congratulations to the happy couple.*
In the video, amidst cheering crowds and swelling music, a perfect pair stood center stage. The talented heir and the beautiful heiress.
They exchanged rings.
They kissed deeply—the kind of kiss that promised forever.
When they pulled apart, they gazed at each other with a tenderness Matthew had never, *not once*, shown me.
It was Matthew and Julia.
He wasn't at a club.
He was at his own engagement party.
The video playing on the screen was intimate, warm, and suffocating.
I watched until tears blurred my vision. Until my legs buckled. Until I was kneeling on the cold floor, the audio loop from my phone twisting like a knife between my ribs.
The man in the footage was Matthew James. I knew every line of his face—the slope of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
The woman beside him? That had to be Julia Fox.
Only when my phone battery died and the room plunged into silence did I finally move. I dragged myself to the bathroom and splashed freezing water onto my face, scrubbing my skin raw. As if I could wash away the exhaustion. The humiliation. The last shred of whatever I'd been clinging to.
The next day, Matthew still didn't come home.