The CEO I Never Planned To Love

CHAPTER FIVE:Leaving Was The Only Thing I Could Control

The next morning, I woke up feeling empty.

Not sad.

Not angry.

Just empty.

The kind of emptiness that settles inside your chest after crying so much your body no longer has energy left to react properly.

For a few peaceful seconds, I stared at the ceiling without remembering anything.

Then reality returned all at once.

Ethan.

Vanessa.

The dorm room.

The betrayal.

My stomach twisted immediately.

I turned onto my side and buried my face into the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut as if that could somehow erase the memory from existence.

But it was real.

Every horrible second of it was real.

I stayed in bed for almost an hour after waking up, unable to gather enough motivation to move.

My apartment was quiet except for the occasional sound of traffic outside the window.

Normally I liked quiet mornings.

Today the silence felt cruel.

Because silence gave my thoughts room to breathe.

And my thoughts were destroying me.

Eventually I forced myself out of bed and walked toward the kitchen.

The graduation flowers still sat on the counter looking bright and beautiful like some kind of sick joke.

I stared at them for a moment before grabbing the nearest bouquet and throwing it directly into the trash.

Then another.

And another.

Soon every flower Ethan gave me disappeared into the garbage.

It should have made me feel better.

It did not.

Nothing did.

My phone buzzed against the counter suddenly.

I froze immediately.

Even though I blocked both Ethan and Vanessa, part of me still expected their names to appear somehow.

Instead, it was an email notification.

From my new job.

I stared at the screen quietly.

The company logo suddenly felt more important than anything else in my life right now.

Because for the first time since yesterday, something reminded me that my future still existed outside of my heartbreak.

I opened the email slowly.

It was just onboarding information and relocation details.

Normal things.

Work things.

Yet reading it somehow grounded me.

My new life started in another city in less than two weeks.

Another city.

Far away from New York.

Far away from memories.

Far away from Ethan and Vanessa.

The thought settled heavily inside me.

Then slowly, something else followed afterward.

Relief.

Tiny.

Fragile.

But there.

Maybe leaving was exactly what I needed.

Maybe staying here surrounded by betrayal and memories would destroy me completely.

I leaned against the kitchen counter and closed my eyes briefly.

“I need to leave,” I whispered to myself.

And for the first time since yesterday, the decision actually felt right.

Not emotional.

Not impulsive.

Necessary.

Because every corner of New York reminded me of them now.

The coffee shop Ethan loved.

The bookstore Vanessa dragged me to every month.

The campus we all shared together.

Even my apartment felt contaminated by memories I no longer wanted.

I walked back toward my bedroom slowly before opening my laptop.

The moment the screen lit up, my reflection stared back at me briefly.

I looked horrible.

Swollen eyes.

Pale skin.

Exhaustion written all over my face.

But underneath all of that pain, something else was beginning to form.

Determination.

I opened the company portal and reviewed my relocation details carefully.

The job was in Chicago.

A completely different environment from New York.

Faster paced.

More corporate.

More unfamiliar.

Before yesterday, the move scared me.

Now it felt like escape.

My phone rang suddenly again.

Unknown number.

I stared at it silently before declining immediately.

A second later, another unknown number called.

Then another.

I laughed bitterly.

Of course.

Blocking them would never stop them from trying.

I turned my phone onto silent mode before tossing it onto the bed.

Then I focused back on the screen.

Apartment recommendations.

Orientation schedules.

Office policies.

Every detail pulled me further away from the disaster my life became overnight.

And honestly?

I needed that.

By afternoon, I finally forced myself to eat something small even though my appetite barely existed.

While sitting at the kitchen counter with untouched pasta in front of me, my thoughts drifted again despite my efforts.

I kept replaying everything Ethan said yesterday.

You were going to leave anyway.

The sentence still made me feel sick.

Not because of the words themselves.

But because he genuinely believed distance justified betrayal.

As if cheating somehow became understandable because I accepted a job opportunity.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

Not devastated this time.

Angry.

Because instead of communicating like an adult, he chose dishonesty.

And Vanessa?

She chose betrayal over loyalty.

Four months.

I still could not fully process that part.

Four entire months of lies.

My chest tightened again, but this time I inhaled deeply and forced the feeling down before it could consume me.

No.

I cried enough yesterday.

Today I needed to think clearly.

I stood up and carried the untouched food toward the trash before stopping halfway.

Then I sighed.

Throwing everything away would not fix my life.

I set the plate down again and forced myself to take a few bites.

Healing probably started with surviving basic things first.

Eating.

Sleeping.

Functioning.

Even when your heart felt destroyed.

Later that evening, someone knocked on my apartment door.

My entire body tensed instantly.

I already knew.

I walked quietly toward the entrance and looked through the peephole.

Vanessa.

Her eyes looked swollen from crying.

Good.

The thought still came naturally.

She knocked again softly.

“Ava please,” she said through the door. “I know you are inside.”

I stayed silent.

“I just want to talk.”

Still silence.

Then her voice cracked emotionally.

“Please.”

Tears burned behind my eyes immediately, but I refused to open the door.

Because seeing her right now would destroy whatever tiny piece of control I managed to rebuild today.

“You should leave,” I said quietly through the door.

Another painful silence followed.

“I miss you already,” she whispered.

That sentence hurt in ways I cannot even explain.

Because part of me missed her too.

Or maybe I missed who I thought she was.

Either way, the grief felt horrible.

“You should have thought about that before,” I whispered back.

I heard soft crying outside my door.

Then eventually footsteps walking away.

The moment the hallway became silent again, I slid down against the door and covered my face with trembling hands.

This was the worst part.

Not losing a boyfriend.

Losing people I trusted completely.

That kind of betrayal changed something inside you.

I stayed there quietly for several minutes before finally standing again.

Then I walked toward my bedroom and pulled out a suitcase from the closet.

The sight of it made my chest tighten unexpectedly.

Because suddenly everything became real.

I was leaving.

Not eventually.

Not emotionally.

Actually leaving.

I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the suitcase for a long moment.

Then slowly, I started packing.

Not because I planned to leave immediately.

But because I needed something to move forward.

Something that reminded me my life was not over just because people betrayed me.

Shirts.

Jeans.

Books.

Shoes.

Little by little, pieces of my life disappeared into the suitcase.

And with every item I packed, something inside me became clearer.

I could stay here drowning in heartbreak.

Or I could leave and rebuild myself somewhere new.

The choice suddenly felt obvious.

By midnight, half my room looked empty already.

I stood near the window staring out at the city lights quietly.

New York once felt magical to me.

Now it just felt painful.

I rested my forehead lightly against the glass before closing my eyes.

“You do not get to destroy me,” I whispered softly.

Not Ethan.

Not Vanessa.

Not anyone.

Maybe my heart was broken right now.

Maybe I felt lost.

But deep down, beneath all the grief and humiliation and anger, one truth still remained.

I survived before them.

And eventually.

I would survive after them too.