My Psychotic Boss

Pursuit of Happiness

Rowan couldn't sleep.

The nights had grown long and cold, and his mind refused to quiet. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Seren, her face soft and unreadable in that café, her voice as still as winter water, her fingers gently slipping the engagement ring off like it meant nothing. But he knew it had once meant everything.

And he had ruined it. He didn't need anyone to say it. He knew. He had destroyed something honest, something real, for a thrill wrapped in secrecy. Delaney had been excitement. A flash of fire. Forbidden. And now, now that Seren was gone, now that she hadn't begged or cried or even accused, Rowan realized the cost of what he'd done. But there was no taking it back. She was done with him.

He could feel it in every glance she didn't give him. Every silence in the hallway. Every careful, professional exchange in the office.

She was gone.

So, Rowan made a decision. If Seren had moved on, if she could be seen smiling beside Malrick, if she could cast him into the past without bitterness or drama, then he would move on too. With Delaney. Delaney didn't ask questions when Rowan showed up at her apartment two nights later.

He came with flowers and a tense smile, and she opened the door in silk pajamas with a glass of wine already in hand. The look on her face said she was expecting him, maybe even waiting for this moment.

"I've been thinking," he said, stepping inside. "About us."

Delaney arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I don't want to keep hiding," he continued. "I'm done with secrets. With guilt. With pretending."

Delaney leaned against the kitchen counter, twirling the wineglass in her hand. "You want to go public?"

"I want to be with you," he said. "Really be with you. No more sneaking around."

She studied him for a moment. Her lips curled into a slow smile, but her eyes stayed sharp. "Well," she said lightly, "it's about time."

She said yes, of course. Not because she loved him, she didn't, not really. She liked what Rowan meant. She liked the way people looked at them when they walked into a room together, how his last name still carried some social weight, how their pairing gave her visibility.

But more than anything, she liked the idea that this, them, might still have the power to get under Seren's skin. That was the real victory she wanted.

A few days later, Delaney showed up to the office wearing Seren's old engagement ring. Rowan had offered it to her with shaking hands, unsure if it was right, but Delaney had only smiled, kissed him softly, and slipped the ring onto her finger like it had always belonged there.

In a way, it had. Delaney had admired the ring from the beginning. The moment Seren showed it to her in confidence, just after Rowan proposed, Delaney had memorized every detail: the modest diamond, the sliver band, the tiny engraving only Rowan and Seren knew was there. Now, it glittered on her hand. And people noticed.

"Oh my god—Delaney, is that...?"

"Wait, are you two... engaged?"

"When did that happen?"

Rowan smiled weakly through the questions, a little uncomfortable but resigned. He told himself he was doing the right thing. Moving on. Making things real. Delaney, on the other hand, beamed like a pageant queen. Every new congratulations fed something bitter and hungry in her.

They made it official on Thursday. During the weekly staff check-in meeting, Delaney, ever the performer, waited for just the right lull in conversation. Then she stood, laced her fingers through Rowan's, and said sweetly, "We wanted to share some good news with everyone." A hush fell over the conference room. Heads turned. Eyes widened. "We're engaged," she said, lifting her hand.

Gasps. Applause. A few people laughed in surprise. Others exchanged looks, trying to piece together the timeline in silence.

Seren sat near the end of the table, flipping through her agenda calmly. She didn't look up right away. When she did, she offered a small smile. "Congratulations," she said, voice even and polite. Then she went back to her notes. Nothing more. No visible reaction. No forced cheer. No eye contact with Rowan. Just... indifference. And it stung.

Not just for Rowan, who had hoped, needed, to see some flicker of pain, some hint that he still mattered. But for Delaney, too.

Delaney, who had built this moment like a weapon, waited for the wound she expected to open on Seren's face. But Seren didn't flinch. Didn't frown. Didn't even blink too long. She just moved on.

Later that day, Delaney caught a glimpse of Seren and Malrick in the break room. They weren't doing anything scandalous. Just talking. Seren was pouring tea. Malrick leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with a rare softness in his eyes. She laughed at something he said.

Delaney stared. This wasn't what she wanted. She had worn the ring, smiled the smile, made the announcement. She had done it all.

So why did it feel like she was the only one still playing a game?

Rowan sat at his desk staring at his computer screen. The emails blurred together. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving.

He hadn't expected it to feel like this. He had thought the public commitment would mean something, would make the guilt fade, the ache dull. He thought having Delaney beside him would replace what he'd lost. But all it had done was carve the absence of Seren deeper into his life.

He remembered her voice again, calm, composed, kind. He remembered how she never raised it, even when she was hurting.

How she had walked away from him with dignity, how she hadn't told anyone the truth, how she had let him keep his image intact.

And now, here he was. Engaged again. To someone who didn't love him. To someone who loved the power of being loved.

He glanced over at Delaney, who was showing the ring to someone in the hallway. And then he looked at Seren, head down, focused, quietly brilliant as ever.

And it hit him like a stone: He hadn't moved on. He had just replaced something real with something louder. Unshaken Seren walked through the day as if nothing had changed. People whispered. Some gave her lingering glances, likely curious about how she really felt. A few asked softly if she was okay.

She smiled. "I'm fine." And she was. Truly. Because she had made peace with the truth long ago. Rowan had betrayed her, yes. Delaney had manipulated her, yes. But none of that defined her anymore. She had her work. Her mind. Her future. And, quietly, she had Malrick, flawed, complicated, tender in ways he didn't know how to show.

She didn't know what they were yet. But she knew what they weren't. They weren't fake. They weren't a performance. And that was enough.