Not His First Choice

Troy shoved me aside, panic all over his face.

He dropped next to Ellie. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?

"Belinda, if you're mad, take it out on me. Why drag someone else into it?"

The shove caught me off guard—I went down hard onto shattered glass.

"I didn't push her."

He shot me a look. "Then she just fell on her own?"

I pushed myself up, careful of the shards. Blood from my palm dripped onto the white carpet, spreading fast.

Troy froze for a second, like he might say something—

"Troy, my leg hurts so much."

He instantly panicked, already dialing. "I'll get you to the hospital right away.

"Belinda, I'll deal with you when I get back."

When the paramedics carried Ellie out, he didn't even give them a minute to bandage me.

"Troy, Ms. Beaumont is hurt too—"

He let out a cold laugh. "It's just a scratch. She won't die. She brought it on herself. If she hadn't pushed you, none of this would've happened."

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, the hesitation was gone.

Leaving was the right call.

***

For a week, Troy didn't come home.

He sent one message—the day Ellie landed in the hospital.

[Because of your shove, her fracture turned into a full break. Belinda, I never knew you were this cold. So cold I'm starting to question whether being with you was ever the right choice.]

I was already leaving, but yeah—it still stung.

He bought Ellie's story, no hesitation. Didn't even bother checking the cameras.

I typed my reply. [Then let's break up.]

Sent.

Undelivered.

He'd blocked me.

I tossed my phone aside and started the share transfer.

My shares were worth a few billion. No way I was walking away from that.

So I transferred everything to people I trusted.

Before I signed, they checked with me—again and again.

"Once you give up your shares, you're done with Troy."

"You've loved him for years. You even planned proposals. You really letting go?"

I signed. "It's already over."

Not just me—Troy was done too.

The past few days, Ellie wouldn't shut up online:

[The cream soup he made is so good. Just a pain to cook. Next time, I'll do it.]

[Taking care of a patient is exhausting. I won't get hurt again. I hate seeing him this tired.]

[He's kinda cute when he's asleep.]

Her last post was from last night. Rare photo.

Troy, asleep next to her.

Blurred, but I knew it was him.

The necklace on the bedside gave it away—the one I made for our first anniversary.

He never took it off.

Until now.

For another woman.

I paused, then posted:

[Leaving the city I've lived in for ten years is easier than I thought.]

Then I walked into the airport.

Didn't look back.