Page 16 of The Breakup Broker

Everything that Henry’s ring had promised Caroline.

Stop it.

“Jennifer?” He extended his hand, gold cufflinks glinting. “Charles Matthews. Thanks for meeting with me. I’ve got some promising opportunities to discuss.”

I gestured to the chair across from me, the one Henry had occupied hours earlier. “When your girlfriend asked me to meet with you?—”

“Sarah?” His expression turned almost patronizing. “She’s ready to discuss a proper business plan? I’ve told hershe needs to think bigger than that little yoga studio. It’s charming, sure, but it’s not exactly a legacy.”

The familiar script rose to my lips, but something else came out instead. “When was the last time you took a class there?”

He blinked, thrown off script. “I’m sorry?”

“Her yoga studio. You called it ‘little.’” Like Henry’s father had called the marina quaint. “But have you seen how she lights up when discussing it? How many lives she’s changing?”

“I ... I don’t see what this has to do with?—”

“She’s leaving you.” The words came out sharper than my usual delivery. “Because while you’ve been planning her empire, you missed what she’s built. A community. Not a corporation.”

Color rose in his cheeks. “Now, wait a minute?—”

“She tried to tell you. Every time you turned her dreams into a business plan. Every time you treated her passion like it needed fixing.” My hands were clenched under the table. “Every time you confused money with meaning.”

Oh god. This wasn’t about Sarah and Charles anymore. This wasn’t even close to professional.

Charles’s face hardened into the mask I usually wore. “I’ve given her everything.”

“Except a choice.” The words burned my throat. “You decided what she needed, what was best for her future. Did you ever think maybe she wanted to make those decisions herself?”

He leaned back, studying me with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t really about Sarah, is it?”

The question hit me hard. Professional distance crumbled like wet paper. After years of perfectly scripted goodbyes, I sat here projecting my hurt onto a stranger’s story.

“I apologize.” I straightened my portfolio. “That was unprofessional. Your girlfriend asked me to inform you she’s ending your relationship. She’ll be moved out by Monday.”

“Just like that?” His voice carried an edge of desperation I recognized too well. “Three years, and she sends a stranger to end it?”

It’s like five years and not even a goodbye.

“Sometimes—” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Sometimes people make choices for us. All we can do is live with them.”

“Or fight back.” He stood, pushing his chair in with precise movements. “I’m not letting her go without an explanation. Not like this.”

Something painful lodged in my chest. Fight back. Had I fought back? Had I done anything except build a career around other people’s endings?

He turned back briefly at the door, his expression hard but determined. “Some things are worth fighting for.”

I watched him go, his words echoing in my head.Were they true?Or was it another pretty lie we told ourselves when the truth hurt too much?

Marcus appeared at my elbow with a cup of tea I hadn’t ordered. “On the house.” He hesitated. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you lose your script.”

“That obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s watched you break hearts professionally for years.” He set down a chocolate croissant next to the tea. “Also, no charge. You look like you need it.”

I stared at my reflection on the tea’s surface. The perfect professional mask had cracked, showing glimpses of the girl who’d once believed in forever—the girl who’d trusted a pair of blue eyes and promises written on coffee shop napkins.

Myphone buzzed.

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