Chapter 1Where the Moon Doesn't Shine

The corporate retreat was a hike up Mount Sterling, and my new sneakers had rubbed my ankles raw before we even reached the halfway point.

Limping and falling behind, I texted Liam: "Can you slow down? My feet are bleeding."

He replied instantly: "Hang in there. We're almost at the top."

I watched his tall, straight back ahead and put my phone away. He never gave me special treatment in public.

Our company had a strict no-dating policy. After five years together, no one knew.

But when I finally reached the summit, I saw Liam kneeling in front of the new intern.

She wore brand-new leather loafers, and he was gently holding her ankle while applying a bandage. “Who wears these for hiking? Does it hurt?”

She wiggled her foot, blushing. “I don’t think I can walk. Mr. Song, could you… carry me down?”

Amid the teasing from our colleagues, Liam—the man who kept a two-foot gap from me in the hallway—let her climb onto his back.

The mountain wind howled, and my ankle burned like fire.

That’s when I realized his “professional distance” was a rule only for me.

On the first workday after the retreat, I left my resignation letter on my desk, next to the box of bandages he’d once left in my drawer.

Then I bought a one-way ticket home.

* * *

The station announcer called for boarding. I stood in the waiting hall, taking one last, long look at the city I had called home for five years.

Because Liam was still here.

The thought of leaving had first taken root at the end of last year.

During the year-end financial review, the company paid out bonuses based on project performance. There was a major project I had led from start to finish. But in the final stages, I had let the new intern, Tina, assist with some of the wrap-up tasks.

When the final assessments came in, ninety percent of the bonus for that project was allocated to her.

It was my work, the result of over two months of my life.

Mr. Quinn, my department head, looked uncomfortable. "Anna, this was Mr. Song's decision..."

I was the one who had made an exception to bring Tina onto the project in the first place. I wanted to help a younger colleague, give her a chance to shine. I never imagined that my two months of hard work would end up making someone else look good.

"Mr. Song emphasized the importance of rewarding promising new talent like Tina," Mr. Quinn said, his voice trailing off helplessly.

Tina. The intern.

And Mr. Song—Liam Song—was my boyfriend of five years.