I packed Adrian's belongings into trash bags and threw them downstairs by the apartment building's dumpster.

I rented this apartment. For seven years, I had paid for all his expenses. He called himself a high-minded artist, but he was completely dependent on a "materialistic" woman like me.

Now, it was time for it to end.

Even the chipped music box he won for me at a ring toss game at Coney Island on Valentine's Day three years ago went into the trash.

When you're deeply in love, even junk is a treasure.

When you're disgusted, even treasures are an eyesore.

I sent him a text: "I don't want the wedding dress. We're done."

Then I blocked all his contacts and canceled the supplementary credit card linked to my account.

If I was going to be ruthless, I might as well go all the way.

…

Today was Friday, another day at the office.

As a project manager at a tech company, the workload was suffocating. I had no time to wallow in heartbreak.

In the breakroom, Riley handed me a double-shot Americano and pointed conspiratorially at her phone. "Gossip from the admin department next door. One hundred percent true."

In the photo, Bella was being intimate with a bald, fat man outside a high-end OB/GYN clinic. The man's hand was resting on her stomach.

"That's Henderson, one of our biggest clients," Riley whispered. "Bella's pregnant, but the baby isn't Adrian's."

I smirked and took a sip of the bitter coffee. "Not my problem."

The old me would have rushed to expose her. But now… I couldn't care less if she lived or died.

We were in the middle of a project launch, and the entire department was swamped. During lunch, I ran into Bella in the stairwell.

She had deliberately come down from the top-floor photo studio. Her intentions were obvious.

"There's no one else here, so you can drop the act," she said, her tone dripping with scorn.

I couldn't be bothered and turned to leave.

She pulled a piece of fabric from her designer bag. "The dress may have ripped yesterday, but Adrian cut out the most important piece of lace embroidery for me," she said smugly. "He said only I deserve his designs. As for you, you only deserve my leftovers."

"And even if the dress didn't fit perfectly, it's still better than on a passionless workaholic like you…"

Just as I was about to respond, Riley's voice echoed from above. "What's that sound? A cat in heat? So annoying."

She clicked down the stairs in her high heels, pinching her nose in disgust. "Harper, step away. You don't want to get that cheap perfume smell on you."

Bella lunged forward, but I grabbed her wrist, my eyes sharp. "You want to hit me? Do you think you're worthy?"

I leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "By the way, you can keep that scrap of cloth. I wish you and the bald Mr. Henderson a happy, healthy baby."

Her face instantly turned pale, her eyes filled with terror.

Riley linked her arm with mine, and we walked downstairs with our heads held high. "I've hated her for so long. That felt so good!"

"Juggling Adrian as a backup while servicing some old man. She's got a Ph.D. in time management."

I laughed. "And I'm pretty impressive myself. I spent seven years picking up her trash."