Chapter 2

After I got home that day, I opened Instagram.

The very first post on my feed was from Sarah.

It was a group photo from her wedding.

In the picture, she was wearing her pristine white gown, leaning sweetly into Mark's embrace, surrounded by a cluster of friends smiling brightly at the camera.

I was the only one missing.

The caption read:

[A perfect day. So grateful for the true ones who stayed in my life.]

I locked myself in my apartment for the entire weekend.

With trembling hands, I dialed Sarah’s number again.

After two rings, it actually connected.

"Sarah, please just tell me what hap—"

"Don't ever call me again."

I only managed to get one sentence out before she ruthlessly hung up.

I frantically dialed again, but only the cold, automated voice answered.

She had blocked me. The hundreds of texts I sent begging for an explanation vanished into the void.

Monday morning, I arrived at the office with swollen, red eyes.

I tried to numb myself with work.

After all, I was the top advertising planner in the company, and David—my boss—had just handed me a million-dollar account.

However, the moment I stepped into the elevator, that suffocating sense of abnormality hit me again.

There were three colleagues already in the elevator.

The second they saw me walk in, their expressions instantly shifted.

No one greeted me. Instead, they pointedly looked away and unnaturally started talking loudly among themselves.

"Did you guys hear? That girl in marketing got caught red-handed as a homewrecker," one woman sneered.

"Yeah, I heard the wife literally showed up at her apartment to raise hell. How embarrassing."

"Right? Looking all decent and polished on the outside, but doing that filthy stuff behind closed doors," another chimed in.

The elevator reached our floor. The doors slid open.

Just as one of the women was stepping out, she paused and raised her voice so the whole corridor could hear: "Some girls have absolutely no shame. They just love going after married men."

I stood frozen in the elevator, my hands and feet turning to ice.

What were they talking about?

Every single word felt like it was deliberately aimed right at me.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to look composed as I walked to my desk.

Before I could even sit down, David’s assistant marched over, her expression icy.

"Chloe, Boss wants to see you in his office. Now."

I pushed open the door to my boss's office. David was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me.

"David, you wanted to see me?" I asked tentatively.

David turned around.

"Go to accounting and close out your payroll, Chloe. Don't bother coming in tomorrow." His voice was as cold as ice.

"What? David, are you joking?"

"I'm not joking."

"But the million-dollar account—we're about to sign the contract! I pulled three all-nighters just last week..."

"Don't mention that account!" David's voice suddenly spiked, a flash of undisguised disgust in his eyes.

"He called this morning and made it very clear they refuse to work with you. Chloe, I always thought you were a decent, professional woman, but I never expected your private life to be so... utterly repulsive."

"My private life? What's wrong with my private life?" Desperate for an answer, I took a step forward.

"Stop right there! Don't come any closer!" David violently took a large step back. "Do I really need to spell out the shameless things you've been doing to your face?"

"I truly don't know! David, please, what the hell is going on?!" Humiliated and desperate, tears finally spilled down my cheeks as I begged the boss I had always respected.

David scoffed coldly and pressed the intercom on his desk. "Julian, come up to my office. Watch Chloe pack her things and escort her out of the building."

He hung up the phone and refused to look at me again. "Get out. You absolutely disgust me."

I was being exiled again.

Under the staring eyes of the entire office, I walked out of the building carrying a small cardboard box.

Standing on the bustling street, I couldn't stop shaking.

Why did my boss mention my private life?

What were those colleagues in the elevator talking about?

What the hell was going on?