My Ex-Fiancé Stole My Dreams

n. It sealed my refusal, a defiance I hadn't known I possessed. I closed the messaging app, my breath catc

s. My architectural sketches, the ones he hadn't claimed, were rolled and tucked away. It was easy, almost too easy, to pack my life into a few boxes. It struck me then, a cold, hard truth: I hadn't left much

ney, would be sold. My share, a meager fraction, would be enough to start anew. "S

l, an administrative delay before I could truly vanish. I had to remain i

, thunder rumbled like an angry god. My phone buzzed again,

r is insane. Kisha' s f

s ago. A massive blizzard had shut down the city. I'd been stuck at the office, working on an urgent project Declan needed for a last-minute presentation. He called from

teeth chattered, but I pushed through. I delivered. When he saw the finished product, he' d simply nodded. "Good job, Cayla. Now get

e. I wouldn't be the reliable, ever-present Cayla who dropped everythin

the successful completion of the waterfront project. Declan's latest triumph. I slipped in quietl

ile playing on his lips. Kisha, vibrant and effervescent in a bright red dress, clung to his arm, her laughter echoing a little too loudly in the room. They looked like a triumphan

s glint in her eyes. "There you are! Declan and I were just talking about you. So, about last night... you really left Declan stran

ty and judgment. I felt the familiar heat rise to my cheeks, bu

dy, though my heart hammered against my ribs. I met her

as he looked at me. It was a flicker of genuine surprise, perhaps even confusion. He hadn't seen thi

t, perfectly organized extension, designed to streamline his existence. He expected me to be there, always. To anticipate, to

n. He stood there, tall and imposing, his usual aura of cool detachment now tinged with a subtle irrita

k. "Was she?" My voice was flat, devoid

ith the project, and the wedding planning... but you can't just abandon your responsibilities. I needed you last n

the first time in an argument, the formality a stark contrast to the intimate address I once used, "my responsibilities to you ended the moment I realized

en closed. He looked at me as if he were seeing a stranger. And perhaps he was. The old Cayla, the

d steady, the words echoing in the quiet office. "And I am

I had just uttered a foreign language. The sile