My Fiancée Fired Me

Two hours before the quarterly performance reviews were posted, I saw my name on the layoff list in the system backend.

The submission was from Ava, my direct supervisor and, for the last four years, my fiancée.

A chill went through me. I called her.

Her voice came through the phone, casual and unconcerned. “Oh, that. Ethan submitted it. He said he was just messing with you, seeing if you’d catch it before it went live.”

She sighed, a little impatiently. “Just retract it yourself. It’s not a big deal.”

Ethan. The fresh-out-of-college grad who’d joined the team three months ago and insisted Ava be his mentor.

I stood there, phone in hand, and let out a short, bitter laugh. So the position I’d poured my life into for six years was nothing more than a game to them. A joke they could just toss around.

The day I left, I packed my personal effects with a calm I didn’t feel.

Ava grabbed my arm, her voice laced with a frantic edge I hadn’t heard in years. “I told you to retract the submission! Why are you actually leaving?”

“Because,” I said, looking her straight in the eye, “I didn’t.”

1

The first time I saw my name on that list, I thought it had to be a system glitch.

Just last week, going over my quarterly goals with Ava, she’d smiled and said, “You’re a lock for this review. Once it’s official, we’re getting married.”

It was the plan we’d made four years ago. The moment I was promoted to department head, we’d use the bonus to finally buy the mermaid-style wedding gown she’d bookmarked and set a date.

But now, the system displayed my employment status as “Pending Termination.”

The submitter field was filled with her name, clear as day: Ava Reed.

And in the comments section, a single, brutal line: ”Employee demonstrates insufficient role-adaptability. Recommend optimization.”

If I hadn’t logged into the backend to double-check some data, I would have been blindsided when the official notices went out. I wouldn’t have even had a chance to defend myself.

Taking a deep breath to quell the storm raging in my chest, I called Ava again.

This time, her voice was sharp with irritation. “Ethan said he wanted to test your attention to detail. You know how important that is in our line of work, Leo.”

A pause. “You can still retract it. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

My eyes were glued to the words insufficient role-adaptability. My throat felt tight. “Ava, this isn’t a molehill. A termination request has to go through an entire approval workflow. How did he even get your credentials to submit it?”

The sound of typing on her end stopped abruptly. Her tone turned to ice. “God, Leo, why do you have to be so petty about everything now? Ethan just graduated; he doesn’t know all the corporate red tape. So I’m covering for him. What’s the big deal?”

Her voice rose, shrill and painful through the speaker. “Why do you have to fixate on this? Are you going to report him? Can’t you show him a little grace? He’s all alone in this city, and as his mentor, it’s my job to look out for him. I’ve told you this a thousand times! Is that a problem? If you want to file a complaint, you can file one against me, too!”

The line went dead. The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I sat frozen in my chair, my gaze falling on the project binder at the corner of my desk, its margins filled with notes. Last year, when I was leading that brutal crunch-time project, Ava had stayed with me every night until the early morning hours. In this very binder, she’d scribbled, “Go Leo! We’re going to nail this.”

And then there was the ring box tucked away in my desk drawer. I’d secretly bought her diamond last month for her birthday, waiting for this review to pass, for the promotion to finally be mine, before giving it to her.

From college sweethearts to colleagues, we had been side-by-side.

We’d squeezed onto crowded morning subway cars together, cooked instant noodles in our tiny studio apartment, and mapped out our entire future on late-night city streets. Colleagues always called us the office’s power couple. Our parents had met. The wedding was tentatively set for next spring.

Everything was supposed to fall into place.

But now, staring at the termination request on the screen, I felt every ounce of strength drain from my body.

All I had to do was click the ‘Retract’ button, and my life would snap back onto its tracks.

But her words—it was just a joke—were like a shard of glass lodged in my heart, and I couldn’t pull it out.

A profound weariness washed over me, so heavy I didn’t even have the strength to lift my hand.

2

The office door creaked open, but I was still staring blankly at the screen.

I looked up. It was Ethan, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and a perfectly calibrated smile on his face.

“Hey, Leo. I just finished my debrief with Ava. She mentioned you were in a bit of a mood, so I made you some coffee.”

He approached my desk and set the mug down. His fingertips brushed the back of my hand—a fleeting touch he quickly retracted, looking down as if suddenly shy. “Ava said you might have misunderstood. I was honestly just joking around. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

The steam from the coffee rose in a soft cloud, blurring the glint of triumph in his eyes. He’d been playing this game for three months. Acting the part of the earnest, respectful subordinate to my face, then running to Ava to whine about how I was “too demanding” and “not as understanding as she was.”

I remembered Ava’s first impression of him. “This kid is too fragile,” she’d told me after his first day, when a client had yelled at him and made him cry. “I doubt he’ll even make it through his probationary period.”

Then, last month, Ava had a sudden appendicitis attack on her way to a client meeting. I was on a business trip out of state. Ethan was the one who took her to the hospital. He stayed by her bedside for two days straight.

After that, everything changed.

Ava started bringing Ethan to high-level meetings. She assigned him key responsibilities on our most important accounts. At a team dinner, she’d even announced to everyone, “Ethan is like a little brother to me. I have to take good care of him.”

The jokes started soon after. Colleagues would whisper that I was the “king in a coma,” and Ethan was the loyal brother-in-waiting, ready to claim the throne. I’d scowl every time I heard it. Ava would just laugh it off. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she’d say. “Leo and I are solid.”

Now, I wasn’t so sure. She’d let him file for my termination and called it a joke.

Seeing my silence, Ethan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a softer register. “Leo, I know you’re mad. How about I buy you dinner? As an apology.”

Just then, Ava walked in, holding a file. “Ethan, I told you to wait for me in the conference room. What are you doing here?”

Ethan immediately snapped to attention, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ava, I just wanted to explain things to Leo. I was worried he was still upset with me.”

The hardness on Ava’s face melted away. She walked over and patted his shoulder. “It’s fine. Leo’s not that petty.”

She turned to me, her tone carrying a clear note of reprimand. “And you. Why are you getting worked up over a kid who just graduated? Ethan has already apologized. Can’t you be the bigger person?”

Watching her shield him, I felt a surge of absurdity. “Ava, he abused your system privileges to file a termination request for a senior employee. That’s not a childish prank; it’s a serious breach of company policy.”

I pressed on, the words tumbling out. “And for the last three months, he’s been bringing you breakfast every single day. He’s all over you in the office, and he stays in your office with you until midnight when you’re working late. Do you really believe that’s just a mentor-mentee relationship?”

The color drained from Ethan’s face. His eyes welled up, and tears began to stream down his cheeks like broken pearls. “Leo, I didn’t… I just think Ava’s a great person, and I want to learn as much as I can from her…”

Ava immediately stepped in front of him, her voice turning glacial. “Leo, what is wrong with you? Why have you become so cruel? Ethan looks up to you like a brother, and you slander him like this!”

She let out a cold, humorless laugh, her eyes filled with disappointment. “I see what this is about. You’re not mad about the termination request. You’re just jealous that Ethan is younger than you, that he knows how to connect with people better than you do!”

Her voice hardened into a weapon. “No wonder you haven’t been promoted all these years. With a mindset as small as yours, you’ll never make manager.”

3

That last sentence was a knife, and it found its mark.

I never imagined Ava, of all people, would ever call me incompetent or small-minded. Not after all those years I’d spent taking on assignments in remote, undesirable territories just to build our savings, just to give her a better life. Not after all those nights I’d worked on proposals until my nose bled. She had seen it all. And now, she could dismiss it so easily.

I stared into her eyes, searching for a flicker of the love I once knew, but all I found was a fierce protectiveness for Ethan and a weary annoyance with me.

“So that’s who you think I am?”

Ava looked away, her voice losing some of its conviction. “That’s not what I meant. I just think you don’t need to pick on Ethan.” Her gaze hardened again. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know any better. You should apologize to him, and we can all move on from this.”

“Apologize?” I let out a laugh, hollow and full of self-mockery. “Let me get this straight, Ava. I’m the one who had a termination request filed against me, I’m the one being slandered, and you want me to apologize?”

Her tone became rigid, a clear threat. “Leo, are you seriously going to fight me on this? Do you want this to affect our wedding plans?”

The wedding. The word was like a needle to the heart. What was once my most cherished dream had just become her bargaining chip.

Suddenly, the will to argue just vanished. I stood up and grabbed the cardboard box from under my desk. “There’s no need for that.”

Ava stared, taken aback. She hadn’t expected this. “What does that mean? Are you quitting?”

“Not quitting,” I corrected her, my voice even. “I’m being laid off. Since you think this is all just a joke, I’ve decided to play along.”

With that, I turned and walked toward the door. Ava reached out to stop me, but I sidestepped her touch. The corner of my box hit the doorframe with a dull thud that echoed the beat of my own heart.

Heavy, but somehow, free.

Back at my desk, there was still an hour to go before the review results were officially published. A system notification was blinking on my screen: “Termination request will be processed at 18:00. Retract now?”

I stared at the button for a long time before closing the window. I opened LinkedIn and started browsing for positions at firms nearby.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from my buddy, Mark, followed by a video.

“Leo. I’m at the downtown promenade. Just saw Ava with that Ethan kid. They’re buying matching bracelets.”

The video was shaky, but clear. Ava and Ethan were standing at a jewelry kiosk. Ethan slipped a silver chain onto Ava’s wrist, then leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Ava laughed and playfully swatted his arm, her eyes dancing with a joy I hadn’t seen directed at me in a long time.

Another text from Mark popped up. “Dude, now they’re going into a bridal shop! I just saw Ava trying on a wedding dress. Ethan’s standing there watching her with this look on his face… Leo, you need to get down here. Now.”

My fingers hovered over the screen, suddenly ice-cold.

So when she’d told me, “Once the review is official, we’ll go get the dress,” she had already been trying it on with someone else.

My phone rang. It was her.

I hesitated, then answered. Her voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with forced affection. “Leo, I’m sorry, my tone was harsh earlier. Don’t be mad. Please just retract the submission, and tonight we can go to that Italian place you love. My treat, okay?”

I watched the video again, the image of her in a white gown, glowing under the boutique lights.

“Ava,” I said softly. “We’re done.”

There were a few seconds of dead silence on the other end, then a furious roar. “Leo, don’t you dare push your luck! You’re going to break up with me over this one little thing?”

“A little thing?” I laughed. “You filing my termination is a little thing? You getting cozy with Ethan is a little thing? You trying on a wedding dress with him is also a little thing?”

Her voice immediately shifted to panic. “How did you know… Ethan and I are just friends! We were just helping his sister pick out a dress, that’s all…”

“Don’t,” I cut her off. “I don’t need your excuses. And I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”

I hung up and blocked her number. Then I blocked Ethan’s.

Mark texted again to say Ava and Ethan were now fighting outside the bridal shop. Ethan had thrown something on the ground, and Ava had walked off in tears.

I didn’t reply. I just kept scrolling through job listings.

Outside, the sky began to darken. My colleagues filed out one by one, leaving me alone in the quiet office. The clock on my monitor ticked over to 18:00.

A pop-up appeared: “Termination request has been processed. We wish you the best in your future endeavors.”

I shut down my computer, picked up my box, and walked out. The evening breeze hit my face, cool with the last breath of summer. I took a deep breath.

For the first time, a future without Ava didn’t seem so terrifying after all.

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