Chapter 63

Scarlett's POV

"Coffee?" Jessie handed me a steaming cup as we walked toward the private break room, away from the surveillance cameras.

"Thank you," I accepted the cup, feeling the warmth transfer through the ceramic to my fingertips. I needed this moment of tranquility to gather my thoughts.

I watched as Jessie glanced around, ensuring no one was listening, then leaned toward me and lowered her voice.

"The Harber Group had planned to collaborate with the Gray family on a scenic area project, but the Gray family canceled the partnership, citing regulatory risks. What's worse, the project was subsequently awarded to an unknown company. How could Mr. Harber not be angry?"

I took a sip of coffee, letting the bitter taste spread across my tongue. I wasn't surprised by this, but I still pretended to look thoughtful in front of Jessie.

I laughed coldly inside. Unknown didn't mean truly nameless; it merely meant not known to the public.

I knew exactly which company had secured that project because it was a secret investment of Obsidian Palace, one of the pieces they had placed on the board.

A few minutes later, I stood before George's private office door, taking a deep breath to steady my emotions.

I knocked gently three times and waited for a response.

"Come in," his voice came from inside, courteous as ever, but I could hear the fatigue in it.

I pushed the door open and walked directly to his desk, placing my resignation letter on the surface in front of him. I watched as George picked up the document, his face immediately turning pale at the sight.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with confusion and subtle pain, heartbreaking like an abandoned puppy, but I couldn't waver.

"What does this mean?" he asked, holding up the document, his voice trembling slightly.

I stood straight, expressionless, just as I had practiced for all important occasions. I couldn't show any weakness.

"As you can see, I intend to resign," I said, my voice calm and detached.

"If you have no other instructions, please sign now, and I'll complete the formalities with the HR department," I added, meeting his gaze steadily.

A long silence spread throughout the office, with a suppressive atmosphere hanging in the air. I could hear the bustle of the city outside, yet it felt so distant from me.

My legs began to ache—my not-fully-recovered body combined with the fatigue from the previous night with Alexander made standing for long periods difficult, but I didn't want to appear weak in front of George.

George finally spoke, his voice low and sorrowful: "If I hadn't gotten engaged to Sandra, would you have chosen me?"

This question pierced my chest like a sharp blade. Looking at the pain in his eyes, I felt a wave of guilt.

But I knew some questions didn't need answers; saying them aloud would only add to the hurt.

I remained silent, my gaze calmly resting on his face, though emotions churned inside me.

If, if—how many "ifs" are there in this world?

I watched as George signed the resignation letter with a bitter smile, his movements slow, as if completing some kind of farewell ritual.

He pushed the document back to me, our fingertips briefly touching above the paper, fleeting but sending an electric current through my entire body. I recalled those simpler days we had spent together, now like a faded dream.

"Thank you for your care, Mr. Harber," I said softly, picking up the document and preparing to leave.

My voice carried genuine gratitude because, regardless of everything, George had always been a good person. Our fates had simply taken different directions.

Just as I walked out of George's office, a sudden wave of nausea hit me like a tide.

I felt dizzy, my stomach churning, and had to cover my mouth as I quickly headed for the nearest break room.

I bent over the sink, emptying the breakfast I had eaten that morning.

I struggled to breathe, my entire body trembling.

"No wonder Ms. Smith is resigning; she's pregnant," I heard office colleagues whispering in the distance, their voices coming through the ringing in my ears.

"Yes, she just said she's getting married. I was thinking we should celebrate for her," Jessie's voice followed.

Pregnant? My thoughts suddenly froze, my hand unconsciously pressing against my abdomen.

I looked up to see Jessie entering the break room, a gentle smile on her face as she handed me a pack of tissues.

"Wipe your face. This is normal for pregnant women. Most experience morning sickness, some from the beginning of pregnancy until delivery," Jessie said kindly, her eyes sparkling with blessings.

"What?" I looked at her in shock, feeling my heartbeat almost stop. Just then, I looked up to see George staring at me through the glass door with a gloomy expression.

I watched his gaze move from my face to my abdomen, then back to my face, the emotions in his eyes complex and difficult to discern.

I swallowed the denial that was about to escape my lips, a strange emotion surging within me.

Jessie smiled awkwardly, then quickly bowed her head and hurried out of the break room, leaving George and me facing each other.

I knew what she had seen and realized this news would soon spread throughout the office.

When I tried to follow her out, George quickly closed the door, trapping me inside.

I watched his movements, smooth and decisive, understanding this wasn't an impulsive action.

"Is this why you're resigning?" he asked directly, his gaze sharp.

I wiped my lips, feeling my throat go dry. "I'll probably be getting married soon, and then I'll settle into the comfortable life of being a wife and mother," I responded in a deliberately casual tone, a script I had rehearsed countless times in my mind.

"Ha! Whose child is it?" George laughed coldly, taking a step closer to me.

I smelled his fresh scent, mixed with a hint of anger and reluctance, the implication in his question unmistakable.

I felt a chill creep up my spine but showed no trace of it on my face.

"What do you think?" I raised an eyebrow, deliberately answering with this ambiguous tone.