Chapter 4

The moment I stepped into the room, I couldn’t hold back any longer. "Tell me about Lily Grant," I demanded. Logan’s grip on my shoulders tightened, his dark eyes burning into mine. “Who told you?” His voice was sharp, accusing. “Or did you hypnotize someone?” I didn’t flinch. “No one told me. But you already know how I figured it out.” I tilted my head slightly, a knowing smile curving my lips. “I promised never to hypnotize you, but I never said I wouldn’t hypnotize your personal assistant.” His face drained of color. His fingers dug into my shoulders. “Olivia, I swear—nothing happened between me and Lily. I don’t have feelings for her. I’ve only ever loved you!” His voice was urgent, desperate. “I’m not unwilling to marry you,” he continued, shaking me slightly. “It’s just not the right time.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “So when is the right time, Logan?” My voice sharpened, disappointment lacing every word. “This isn’t about timing. It’s about trust.” I held his gaze, unblinking. “You promised never to doubt me. But did you ever believe me?” His silence was answer enough. My breath hitched as a sharp pain spread through my chest. "Is your wariness of me greater than everything I’ve done for you?” I forced the words out. “Lily can't compare to me in education, abilities, looks, resources, or family background. So what is it about her that attracts you?" His face turned ashen, then flushed red. A vein throbbed at his temple as he clenched his fists. And then, as if the words had been waiting to spill from his lips, he snapped. “At least Lily is gentle and considerate,” he bit out. “She’s simple. Genuine. I don’t have to worry about being deceived by her.” The words sliced through me like a blade. My hypnosis skills—the very thing that made me valuable, that made me me—were nothing more than a weapon in his eyes. A trick. A manipulation. A cold laugh bubbled from my throat. “So you finally admit it.” Logan stumbled back as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. His anger twisted into something unreadable. “I admit what? Olivia, I never said I liked her. I told you, you’re the only one for me. But now just isn’t the time to get married.” I exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of the table. “It’s not about marriage, is it?” I whispered. “It’s about the fact that you don’t know if your love for me is real… or if it’s just a result of my hypnosis.” His breath caught. His entire body tensed. Silence. Thick. Heavy. And in that moment, I knew. He had never truly believed in us. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I refused to let him see me break. I straightened, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Fine. Since you have feelings for her, I’ll give you my blessing. Since you never trusted me, I’ll leave.” His jaw clenched. “You’re overreacting, Olivia.” I turned away from him, already heading toward the bedroom. “No, Logan. I’m finally seeing things clearly.” I Oliviaked open the closet, grabbing my suitcase. My movements were controlled, deliberate. I wouldn’t let him see my hands tremble. I only packed what I had bought myself, leaving behind every gift he had ever given me. He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. “You’re really leaving?” His voice was hoarse. I zipped the suitcase and turned to face him. “You want to test if your feelings for me are real or just a result of my hypnosis? Fine. Go ahead.” I lifted my chin. “From this moment on, you won’t have to worry about me hypnotizing you ever again.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “Olivia, if you walk out that door, don’t come back.” I held his gaze. “If it is real, will you regret it?” He hesitated for the briefest moment. A flicker of something—doubt, fear, regret—crossed his face before it was wiped clean. Then, his voice turned cold. “I never do things I regret.” I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Good. Then we have nothing left to say.” I rolled my suitcase to the door, pausing just long enough to glance over my shoulder. My voice was quiet but firm. “From now on, we’re strangers.” And then I walked out. Starting Over I didn’t look back. Not when I stepped into the elevator. Not when I walked through the lobby. Not even when the night air hit my skin, cool and sharp against my burning cheeks. I kept walking. Only when I was far enough away did I let the tears fall. I had nowhere to go. I had built my entire life around him, left my hometown for him, burned every bridge that didn’t lead to us. But I had always been independent. And I would prove it. That night, I let myself grieve. Just one night. By morning, my tears had dried. Within a week, I found a new place to live. A sleek, modern apartment in the city center. Small but mine. I rented an office space, threw myself into my work, and rebuilt my life from the ground up. Logan sent a few messages in the following weeks—short, impersonal texts. How are you? Have you eaten? Are you doing okay? I ignored them all. He thought I was just angry, that I’d cool off and come back like I always did. He had no idea that I had already moved on. A month later, I saw the video. It popped up in a private group chat filled with mutual acquaintances—people from Logan’s social circle. A birthday party. For Lily Grant. The camera panned to her sitting at the head of the table, a birthday crown perched on her head. She beamed as everyone sang to her, eyes squeezed shut as she made a wish. And beside her? Logan Pierce. His gaze was warm, his hand resting casually on the back of her chair. When she blew out the candles, he leaned in—slowly, deliberately—and kissed her. A soft, lingering kiss. The kind that spoke of familiarity. Of something that had been building for a while. I watched the video in silence. And then I closed my phone. No anger. No pain. Just clarity. Logan had made his choice. And so had I. There was no going back. __________