The Day I Left He Proposed But I No Longer Wanted Marriage Chapter 09

The Day I Left He Proposed But I No Longer Wanted Marriage Chapter 09

The night deepened, and the cemetery on the outskirts looked especially bleak and desolate.

I followed my sister to a gravestone.

In the photo, my mother smiled gently, her eyes exactly as they had always been.

With a thud, I dropped to my knees before the gravestone and pressed my forehead against the icy stone.

“Mom! Zoe has come to see you!”

My sister stood behind me. Watching me like this, her own eyes reddened.

“Before Mom left, she kept calling your name over and over. She never believed you were a heartless child.

I hated you for six years—hated why you wouldn’t even come back to see Mom one last time.

But seeing how thin you’ve become today, I know… you haven’t had it easy out there either.”

My sister crouched down and gently wrapped her arms around my trembling shoulders, her tears falling into the hollow of my neck.

“Zoe, Mom is gone. We can’t lose you too.”

I clung tightly to my sister, holding her back, and the knot that had been tangled in my heart for so long finally began to loosen.

Life had to go on. I couldn’t keep drowning in the pain of the past.

I started frantically sending out résumés, hunting for jobs.

I had to admit—the school Evan sent me to back then truly was one of Switzerland’s most elite institutions.

Even though I hadn’t gotten my diploma,

the professional knowledge I’d acquired over those six years, along with my fluent French and English, became my most solid foundation.

Very soon, I received an offer from a renowned multinational corporation to serve as Senior Translator and PR Specialist for their project department.

I poured every ounce of my energy into my work, numbing myself with the relentless, non-stop grind.

Three months later, I successfully passed my probation and earned my permanent position.

And the very first major project I took on after my promotion was the cross-border collaboration with a domestic enterprise.

On the day of the meeting, I walked into the conference room with my files in hand.

But when I saw the man sitting in the head seat, my steps still faltered for a beat.

Evan was wearing a sharply tailored black suit, his expression somewhat haggard.

The moment he saw me, he shot straight up from his chair.

The other people in the conference room all revealed expressions of surprise, their gazes darting back and forth between the two of us.

I quickly composed my face into a professional smile.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrison. I’m Aria Mitchell, the project lead. Next, I’ll be presenting our company’s proposal for you.”

I stepped forward with poised confidence, projecting the PowerPoint onto the big screen. My voice was crisp, clear, and efficient.

Over the next half hour, using fluent, impeccably authentic French and English, I laid out the project’s core advantages and feasibility analysis with perfect logic and clarity.

When I worked, I was focused. Sharp. Radiating an aura of confidence from head to toe.

Evan stared at me, the initial delight in his eyes slowly shifting into something closer to loss.

In his memory, I had always been a fragile girl who clung to him, needing his protection.

But he’d never known that when I truly threw myself into my work, I could shine this brilliantly—

so brilliantly that I didn’t need him at all to live a perfectly good life.

The contract was signed smoothly. Evan barely raised a single objection before putting down his signature.

After the meeting concluded, I politely shook hands with his assistant and prepared to leave.

“Wait.”

Evan strode over quickly and stood in my path.

“Can we talk?”

I was silent for a moment. In the end, I nodded.

Indeed—some things still needed to be said clearly, face to face.