No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 75

LAUREN'S POV

“So in short, Ms. Lauren, I suggest you head back home today. Tell whoever you want to tell, give them a farewell goodbye, pack up and get ready, because you’re leaving as soon as possible,” the manager said with a stiff, professional tone that carried no room for argument.

I blinked, my lips parting slightly as if I had misheard her.

“If you don’t show up at the airport tomorrow,” the other guy seated beside her added, his voice sharper, “we’ll take it that you do not want to go, and that you’ve dropped your position as Business Development Manager.”

My mouth fell open. “But…”

I was immediately cut off by the manager, who didn’t even give me the courtesy of completing my sentence.

“That would be all,” she said firmly. “Any further information will be sent to your email. Thank you.”

The finality in her tone was like the slamming of a door in my face. Then, as if my presence in the room was now a burden, she tilted her head toward the door, gesturing for me to leave.

I sat there for a moment longer, stunned into silence, trying to process what had just happened. This wasn’t a conversation, it was a command. They didn’t even give me the chance to ask questions, to clarify details, or to voice any concern. It was as though my opinions didn’t matter.

Slowly, I stood up, my legs feeling heavier than they should, like I was dragging weights with every step. My hand lingered on the chair for a moment before I finally turned toward the door. At the last second, I glanced back, almost desperately, hoping, praying that they would laugh, that someone would break the tension in the room and tell me this was all some elaborate prank.

But no one said anything. Their eyes remained cold, businesslike, as though this was simply another task to check off their list.

Because who just wakes up one day and transfers someone who hasn’t even begun working to a whole other country? It was absurd. Ridiculous. Unreal.

***

“And that’s all that happened,” I said later that evening, my voice a mixture of disbelief and exhaustion. I curled deeper into my duvet, holding the fabric tightly as if it could somehow shield me from reality. Tessa sat beside me on the bed, her brows furrowed in disbelief as she listened.

The room around us was in complete chaos. Boxes and half-folded clothes were scattered everywhere, the evidence of my hurried, confused attempt at packing. Every corner of the room screamed transition, yet it didn’t feel like my choice — it felt forced, unnatural.

I had told Tessa everything, from the way the manager dismissed me to the way I was practically shoved out of the office without the courtesy of answers. She looked even more shocked than I had felt in that moment, and honestly, I didn’t blame her.

My suitcase lay open by the wardrobe, already half filled. The sight made my chest tighten. There was no one else for me to say goodbye to except Tessa. No family nearby, no close friends besides her. She was the only anchor I had, and she wasn’t taking it well.

“And how do you feel about all this?” Tessa asked softly after a long silence, her eyes scanning my face for some trace of calm.

I let out a bitter laugh, though it held no humor. “How else am I supposed to feel? I’m leaving for a new country in less than twenty-four hours, and you expect me to be calm about the whole thing? They didn’t even allow me to speak out about how I felt. They just told me how it was — like I’m some robot they can program and ship off. And this is just my first day.”

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