She was right up close to him, adjusting his tie with a tenderness that made my stomach twist. They stood there, just a breath apart, almost like they were daring me to react.
Without a word, I shut down my computer, grabbed my bag, and walked out.
"Astrid, you're not mad, right? I mean, I was just doing my job," Anya said with a bright smile, her red lips parting as she spoke. "Cedric and I are meeting a client for dinner soon, so we had to look professional, you know."
I gave a nod, playing along. "Yeah, you're right. It makes sense."
But Cedric didn't seem convinced. He grabbed my arm, his grip tightening as he glared at me. "You heard it! It's just work! Are you really going to be jealous over this? Anya and I are just colleagues—stop assuming the worst!"
I almost let out a laugh. Just colleagues? He really had the nerve to say that with a straight face!
I shook off his hand, keeping my voice steady. "I'm not jealous, Cedric. She did what she was supposed to do, and you heard me, I'm cool with it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got plans."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away. I wasn't lying—I really did have plans—dinner with a divorce lawyer who had a good reputation for handling messy cases. We were meeting at the Italian restaurant downstairs.
By the time I got there, the lawyer was already seated, waiting for me. We went over the details, and as we talked, I glanced out the window. There they were—Cedric and Anya, walking out of the office together. He opened the passenger door for her and even reached out to shield her head as she got in. Then, they drove away.
That spot in his car used to be mine. But ever since Anya came back, I found myself pushed out little by little. At first, I didn't want to give it up, but Cedric brushed me off, saying she was just a guest and that I was being unreasonable.
Looking back, I should've known then—I wasn't just losing the front seat. I was losing everything, too.
I turned my attention back to the lawyer, listening as she laid out the options. I asked her to draft a divorce agreement, and she seemed thorough, which helped me relax a bit.
Later that night, I went home and started packing after finalizing my resignation letter. Funny enough, after making up my mind to leave, I actually felt lighter—like I could finally breathe.