Lena arrived early.
The city was still half asleep when she stepped into Blackwood Press, the lobby quiet and polished like always. For a moment, she stood there, breathing in the familiar scent of paper and coffee, trying to memorize the feeling.
She had made her decision.
And it terrified her.
She rode the elevator alone, her reflection staring back at her from the mirrored walls. The woman she saw looked stronger than she felt.
When the doors opened on her floor, she walked straight to her desk and began clearing it out.
A pen. A notebook. A framed quote she had taped to the side of her monitor.
Write bravely.
She folded it carefully and slipped it into her bag.
Ethan felt it before he heard it.
Something in the air shifted.
He stepped out of his office just as Lena lifted a box from her desk.
"Lena," he said softly.
She froze.
Slowly, she turned to face him.
"I was hoping to do this quietly," she said.
His heart sank. "Do what?"
She held up the box. "I'm leaving."
The words struck like a physical blow.
"Leaving?" he repeated. "Why?"
She met his gaze, steady and calm. "Because I need my life back."
The office around them seemed to fade.
"I don't want to be brave every day just to exist," she continued. "I don't want to wake up wondering if I'm a headline."
Ethan stepped closer. "I can fix this."
She shook her head. "That's the problem. I don't want to be something you fix."
Silence stretched between them.
They moved to the conference room, away from curious eyes.
"I love you," Ethan said quietly, the words raw and unguarded.
Her breath hitched, but she didn't look away.
"I believe you," she said. "That's what makes this so hard."
"Then stay," he whispered.
She closed her eyes briefly. "I can't. Not like this."
Tears welled but didn't fall.
"I need to choose myself," she said. "Just this once."
Outside, the press waited.
Ethan arranged a private exit for her, but she refused.
"I won't hide," she said.
She walked past the cameras with her head high, saying nothing, offering no explanations.
Inside, Ethan watched from the window, his chest tight.
This was what loving someone meant.
Letting them go.
Days passed.
The office felt emptier without her laughter. Without her presence.
Ethan threw himself into work, but success felt hollow. Every victory tasted like loss.
Late one evening, he opened a drawer and found her forgotten notebook.
He hadn't read it before.
Now, he did.
The words were honest. Tender. Strong.
He closed it, tears in his eyes.
Across the city, Lena sat in a small café, typing on her laptop.
She had started writing again.
Her own story.
She didn't know where it would lead.
But for the first time, she felt free.