CEO Sues Her Ex-Lover

The hiking trip was my idea. After months of eighteen-hour workdays and sleeping on my office couch more often than in my bed, I needed an escape. James did too—or so I thought.

"I've booked us a weekend at Mount Rainier," I announced one evening, closing my laptop and massaging my temples. "Just the two of us. No phones, no emails, no board meetings."

James looked up from his game console with that crooked smile that first made me fall for him. "Babe, that sounds amazing."

I'd spent weeks planning everything perfectly. I'd even splurged on matching hiking gear—top-of-the-line waterproof boots that cost more than most people's monthly rent. The ones James was now holding in his hands, examining the expensive stitching.

"These are sweet," he said, trying them on. "Perfect fit."

"They're designed for serious hikers," I explained, watching him walk around our living room in them. "The trip is going to be challenging. I want us to push ourselves."

That night, I packed our bags with meticulous care—energy bars, hydration packs, emergency blankets. Everything coordinated in our matching navy and gray outfits. It was going to be perfect.

Until James dropped his bombshell the next morning.

"Hey, so Nyomi's coming too."

I froze in the middle of applying my sunscreen. "What?"

"She's really going through it right now," James continued, not meeting my eyes. "Her breakup was worse than she let on. She needs this—needs us."

"Us," I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "James, this was supposed to be our weekend. Just you and me."

"You're always talking about how important work-life balance is," he countered smoothly. "Well, Nyomi's my best friend. Supporting her is part of my life."

I wanted to argue, but the car was already waiting downstairs. Nyomi was already on her way. So instead, I swallowed my disappointment and finished packing.

The drive to Mount Rainier was beautiful, but tense. Nyomi sat in the front passenger seat, chatting animatedly with James about some reality show they both loved. I sat in the back, watching their heads lean toward each other with every shared joke.

When we arrived at the trailhead, I couldn't help but notice Nyomi's footwear—flimsy white sneakers that looked more suited for a gym workout than a mountain hike.

"Are you sure you don't want to change into something more appropriate?" I asked her, trying to keep my tone friendly. "The trail gets pretty rough in places."

"Oh, these will be fine," Nyomi replied with a dismissive wave. "I'm not as fancy as some people."

James shot me a warning look, as if I'd insulted her personally.

We'd barely made it a mile up the trail when Nyomi started complaining.

"My feet are killing me," she moaned, limping dramatically. "These rocks are so sharp! I think I might have a blister already."

I bit back a retort. We'd barely left the parking lot.

"Ellianna," James turned to me with that expression I'd come to dread—the one that meant he