Her Cold Revenge, His Regret

Miller at a job intervie

y last name. I was nervous, and on my way to the conference room, my heel caught on

, and then walked arou

a

?" he asked, his voice steady and reassuring. It grounded me. He helped me to

, his experience lacking. But I remembered his comp

HR director that I saw potential

tive. He wanted to climb, to prove himself. I wanted to help him. I used my knowledge of the industry to g

u?" he would say often, holding

ieved

"He's not for you, Ava," my brother had

mony. To avoid any accusations of favoritism at work and to fully dedicate myself to his caree

ing trust would be rewarded

at the public library, reading and planning. It was his birthday, and I knew from my past life t

phone bat

assumed the party was over. I fumbled in my purse for my keys, t

the d

was Mark. His hair was messy, his shirt unbuttone

pered, his body blocking the entrance.

died," I s

y and familiar, called out from

Ms. J

the apartment. He turned back to me, his

ver his shoulder. "Ju

the door

. I stood there in the silent hallway, not with hurt, but with a profound, chilli

in. I didn't screa

and satisfied, walked out. She didn't even glance at me as she strutte

y the door. He rushed over, his face

words tumbling out of him. "Ms. Jenkins just spilled some wine on

silence more powerfu

ase of my career. It would ruin me if my colleagues knew I married

so thick it wa

crowded street and declared his love for me, not caring who

med to even admi

vanish overnight. Or perhaps,