Chapter 9

Vivian's hand jerked violently, nearly dropping the plate. She steadied herself hastily, her voice tinged with panic. "I... I'll go prepare another one."

"No need." I set down my chopsticks, my tone as calm as discussing the weather. "If we're just torturing each other, it's better to part ways amicably."

Last week at the company gala, she remembered Ethan's seafood allergy perfectly but forgot that even the smell of cheese gives me hives. The contrast was too stark to ignore.

"What do you mean?" Vivian's voice suddenly sharpened, her nails digging into her palms. "Do you have any idea how many files I handle every day? You're fixating on one tiny mistake?"

"Exactly." I nodded, standing to clear the table. "Which is why breaking up makes perfect sense."

Crash! A porcelain plate shattered against the table, fragments scattering everywhere. Vivian trembled with rage before storming out, slamming the door behind her, leaving chaos in her wake.

This was her usual silent treatment tactic. But this time, I simply called housekeeping and had all her belongings packed up and shipped to her villa in the suburbs. After years of packing her luggage for business trips, this was second nature.

The property transfer went smoother than expected. Vivian seemed to finally grasp that this time was different. She first sent mocking texts, and when I didn’t respond, her social media suddenly flooded with updates.

By the time I finished onboarding at the new company, my phone was bombarded with notifications from her. Safari park, hot air balloon rides, Bali vacations—every photo featured Ethan. The latest post zoomed in on matching couple's rings, captioned: "Do the considerate ones always get taken for granted?"

My finger hovered over the screen, accidentally tapping like. I immediately undid it and turned off notifications. These childish games should’ve ended long ago.

Life at the new company was fulfilling. The project I led had just secured a nine-figure deal. As I headed out to sign the contract, my phone buzzed.

A photo from Vivian. The moment I opened it, the words "Pregnancy Test Report" in stark black and white burned my eyes.