I sank into the depths of my worn-out sofa, my eyes swollen and exhausted from endless tears. My heart lay shattered, fractured into countless pieces. I couldn't fathom how, or if ever, it would mend.

"Oh my God, Jane..." Krissy's voice resonated through the room as she enveloped me in a tight embrace. I had called her the moment David walked away, seeking solace in her presence. Frank stood beside her, his gaze filled with sorrow and empathy.

"I'll confront him, Jane. I'll make him see..."

"No. Please, don't. Just let him go," I interjected, my voice a whisper choked with pain. It was too late now. With a heavy heart, I retrieved my suitcase from the bedroom, casting one last glance at the walls that held cherished memories. This house, once a sanctuary of love, would now be left behind.

There was no turning back.

***

"Why are you ignoring me like this? What did I do wrong? Please, just tell me," I pleaded with desperation, my voice filled with a mix of frustration and longing. But David dismissed me without a second thought, brushing me aside as if I were inconsequential.

For two agonizing nights, he had been absent, leaving me anxiously awaiting his return. And when he finally did come back, he treated me as if I were invisible. I attempted to engage him in conversation, to bridge the growing divide, but he simply chose to ignore my every word.

"I just want to understand, why?" I implored, my voice cracking with hurt.

"Stop acting like a child, Jane! I can't take it anymore!" David's voice lashed out, filled with a potent mix of frustration and exasperation.

"Dave, how can you say that? I love you, I'm worried about you! It's only natural for me to act..."

"Love? Right now, it feels suffocating!" he bellowed, storming out of the room. I chased after him, my heart racing with desperation.

"Dave, I just want to know why... Why are you suddenly behaving this way? Am I in the wrong? Please, talk to me!" I pleaded, my voice filled with a mix of hope and despair. But he paid no heed, grabbing his keys and striding toward the exit.

"Please, Dave, we can work this out! Just don't leave me like this! Please!" I begged, trying to block his path, hoping to hold onto what was slipping away.

"There's nothing left to discuss," he declared coldly, pushing me aside with callous indifference.

"I just want an explanation, just one good reason why?" I beseeched him, my voice trembling with the weight of my shattered heart. But he merely shook his head, leaving me hanging in a void of unanswered questions.

He was heartless.

And I had reached my breaking point.

"Don't you dare walk away from me in the middle of a conversation, Dave!!!" I screamed, desperately chasing him toward the front door. But he paid no attention, effortlessly slipping on his coat and snatching his keys.

"David!"

"Jane, does this seem like a conversation to you?" he retorted, standing there, observing my disheveled state. I couldn't let him go like this. Not again!

"All I see is us fighting, Jane. Not conversing. Just endless yelling and screaming," his expression spoke volumes. He had reached his breaking point.

"At least we're expressing ourselves! I just want to understand why you did this to me, Dave?" I grabbed his forearm, pleading with all my heart. He sighed, gently pulling away and grasping the doorknob.

"Once you're out that door, there's no place left for you in my life!" I issued my ultimatum, tears streaming down my face. He turned back, a sorrowful smile lingering on his lips.

"Fine by me. Let's break up!" I attempted to run towards him, but stumbled, falling to my knees in front of the open door. He walked away, leaving me to cry in solitude.

Where did it all go wrong? We met a year ago, and only a few months later, we became a couple. We shared a home for a mere six months. How did everything crumble so quickly?

And to think I knew him so well...

I was utterly mistaken.

***

I gazed out of the office window, watching raindrops race down the glass. As I blinked, tears welled up in my eyes. It was hard to believe that this relationship had come to an end.

And what hurt the most was that I didn't even know what went wrong.

"Ahem!" a loud voice startled me, snapping me out of my sadness. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed someone standing behind me.

"I've come to submit my manuscript," Yura announced. I turned my head to face him, still wiping away tears. I felt empty inside, unable to muster a proper response.

Without warning, Yura reached out and gently wiped the tears from my cheek, offering me a warm smile. I couldn't comprehend my own thoughts in that moment, but my heart sank and silently cried out for solace.

"Pretty women shouldn't cry. It doesn't suit them," he remarked. I stood there, my heart pounding. Any woman would be touched by his kindness and care, but deep down, I knew I couldn't let myself fall for him. It wouldn't be fair to make him my escape or a distraction from my broken heart.

"So, how many chapters until it's complete?" I brushed him off, refocusing on my actual job. It was more important than my love life—I needed to be professional.

"Just two more chapters, and we're done. But the finale might take some time. I want to give this book a beautiful, satisfying ending. So, please be patient," he assured me. I simply nodded, glancing at the manuscript before us. It was a precious collaboration between a renowned novelist and his dedicated editor—Yura and me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I forced a fake smile. He smirked, understanding my facade.

"Alright... Come with me," he said, taking hold of my wrist and guiding me out of the office.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To a cool place," he replied. With that, he pulled me away from my office, leaving my assistant with a knowing look. Today, it seemed Eric would have his hands full!

***

"Seriously?" I exclaimed, my eyes widening in disbelief. He beamed proudly, gesturing towards the place he had deemed so cool.

"What could be cooler than The Anger Room?" he said, grinning mischievously. And there we stood, right in front of that room.

"I've never been here before. Maybe because I'm not an angry person," I said, grabbing the shield handed to me by the attendant.

"The Anger Room isn't just for angry people. I come here all the time, no matter my mood," he said, handing me a hefty iron mallet.

"And I know you need this so badly," he added, a knowing smile on his face. I wasn't sure if he was a mind reader or a wizard, but he always seemed to understand my situation. He was constantly searching for remedies, like he had me figured out.

"Smash it like there's no tomorrow," he said, launching into a frenzy of smashing old box-like TVs while laughing. He looked like a maniac and a mad genius all at once. Now I understood where he found his inspiration—he had become his own muse.

I took a deep breath, tightly gripping the mallet in my hand. I swung it at the glass, shattering it into countless pieces. Damn, it felt exhilarating! I swung again, this time targeting a large metal barrel. I pummeled it until it lost all form.

"How does it feel, Miss Editor?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

"This is better than sex! I should come here when I'm feeling frisky!" I burst into laughter, continuing to unleash my fury on the remaining TV sets and metal barrels.

"Is that too much information?" he chuckled, casting a glance my way. I paid no mind to his comment, focusing solely on the destruction before me.

"God, it's so satisfying!" I exclaimed, my breath heavy with exhilaration. I looked over at Yura, and he simply smirked.

"Why?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. He approached me with a seductive gaze.

"Now I know how you look when you reach orgasm," he whispered, causing my face to flush and my heart to skip a beat.

He had definitely crossed a line now!