Lena stopped checking her phone.
The headlines were everywhere — on social media, in group chats, whispered in passing. Every notification felt like another hand reaching into her life without permission. So she turned the phone face down and let the silence return.
But silence didn't bring peace.
It brought clarity.
She sat by the window of her apartment, watching the city lights flicker on one by one. Los Angeles had never felt so big or so unforgiving. Somewhere out there, Ethan was fighting battles she hadn't asked him to fight.
I never wanted to be saved, she thought.
She wanted to be chosen.
At work, the tension followed her like a shadow. People were kinder now — too kind. Their sympathy felt heavy, awkward.
During lunch, an editor stopped her.
"You know," the woman said gently, "you could've used this to your advantage."
Lena smiled politely. "I didn't want advantage. I wanted honesty."
The editor nodded, thoughtful.
That afternoon, Ethan requested a private meeting.
Lena stared at the message for a long time before replying.
I'll come.
His office felt colder than before — too clean, too distant. He stood when she entered.
"Thank you for coming," he said.
She didn't sit. "Say what you need to say."
Ethan inhaled. "The board wants distance. A public statement denying any personal involvement."
Her heart sank.
"And what do you want?" she asked.
"I want you," he said simply. "But I won't ask you to stay if this costs you yourself."
The words struck deeper than any promise.
She looked at him — really looked. Not the CEO. Not the intern.
The man who had made mistakes. The man who had stood alone in a room full of power and taken responsibility.
"I'm tired," she said softly. "Of being pulled in directions I didn't choose."
"I know," he replied. "That's why the choice should be yours."
That night, Lena walked the city alone.
She passed cafés, bookstores, couples laughing on sidewalks. Life went on, untouched by scandal.
She thought of her dreams — writing, quiet mornings, a life that felt like her own.
Could that life exist beside Ethan?
Or would she always live in his shadow?
Ethan waited.
For the first time in his life, he didn't try to control the outcome. He canceled meetings. Ignored advisors.
He sat in the empty office long after sunset, staring at the city he once believed he owned.
He didn't.
He had learned that love wasn't possession.
It was permission.
Lena returned to her apartment and opened her notebook.
She wrote without stopping, words spilling onto the page.
Sometimes love asks for courage. Sometimes it asks for sacrifice. And sometimes, it asks for patience.
She closed the notebook and made her decision.
The next morning, she stood outside Blackwood Press, heart steady.
She walked inside.
Not as a rumor.
Not as a headline.
But as herself.
And whatever happened next — she would face it on her own terms.