Jealousy Alpha's Regret novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

Iris’s POV

“What?!” Lisa’s shocked exclamation echoed across the design.

department, drawing every head in our direction.

I turned around slowly, finding myself the center of attention as

curious eyes locked on me. Even Beth, our group leader, had emerged

from the break room, coffee mug in hand, her expression a mixture of

surprise and disappointment.

Wow, this reaction is even more dramatic than I expected.

“You’re really leaving?” Lisa’s voice dropped to a whisper, though in

the sudden silence, everyone could still hear her. “Just like that?”

“Not ‘just like that‘,” I corrected gently. “My internship ends this week.

I’m simply not staying on afterward.”

One by one, my colleagues gathered around my desk, forming a loose

semicircle of confused expressions and crossed arms.

“I can’t believe it,” said Josh from the technical team, shaking his

head. “It feels like you just got here, and now you’re already leaving.

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We’ve barely had two months together.”

“Is it the work environment?” another designer asked. “Was someone

giving you trouble?”

I felt their eyes drift toward Megan’s office, and I had to suppress a

smile. They weren’t wrong, but that wasn’t my primary reason.

Beth stepped forward, her usually stern face softened with genuine

concern. “Iris, are you sure about leaving Crescent Design? Someone

with your abilities and design talent would thrive here. I’ve seen your

work–it’s exceptional.”

The warmth of her words caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected this

level of support, especially not from Beth, who rarely handed out

compliments.

“Thank you,” I said, touched by her assessment. “Crescent Design is a

great company, but…”

I paused, weighing my words carefully. I couldn’t tell them about the

werewolf politics or my history with Sebastien, but I could give them

something close to the truth.

“It’s just not the right fit for where I am in my life right now,” I

finished. “I need to start fresh.”

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Beth nodded reluctantly. “I understand. Sometimes the best designs

come from following your own path.”

As my colleagues gradually drifted back to their desks, I could still

feel their glances and hear their whispers. The news of my

resignation was spreading like wildfire through the office. By

lunchtime, everyone would know.

And soon it’ll reach Marcus… and then Sebastien.

I settled back into my chair, focusing on my screen. It doesn’t matter.

The moon cycle cooling–off period has begun. My decisions are my own

now.

I immersed myself in my current project, deliberately shutting out

the murmurs around me. The design competition was just around the

corner, and that deserved my full attention. It wasn’t just any contest

-it was my ticket to establishing myself in the human world, my

foundation for standing on my own in Blue Harbor.

Jack Lowell’s appreciation of my work flashed through my mind,

strengthening my resolve. The way his eyes had lit up when he saw

my sketches… that wasn’t fake. That wasn’t political. That was

genuine recognition of talent.

My talent shouldn’t be confined by any company structure, especially not

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one with Sebastien’s name on it.

Friday afternoon arrived faster than I expected. I stood at my desk,

methodically placing items into a cardboard box–a few reference

books, my favorite pens, a small potted succulent Lisa had given me

on my first day.

Two months, and I’ve already collected so many memories here.

I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of my desk, remembering

late nights hunched over sketches, breakthrough moments when a

design finally clicked, and even the tense silences whenever Megan

prowled through the department.

“Need help packing up?”

I looked up to see Lisa hovering nearby, concern etched across her

face.

“No, thanks,” I smiled, trying to ease her worry. “I travel light. Don’t

worry about me–it’s already past five. You should head home.”

Lisa hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying.”

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“Absolutely. Go enjoy your weekend.”

After she left, I finished gathering my things, mentally checking off each item against my original inventory. As I zipped my portfolio

closed, I thought about tomorrow’s competition.

I need to review my presentation notes once more tonight. The sketches

are ready, but my delivery needs to be perfect.

The office had emptied quickly after five, leaving me alone with my

thoughts and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. I slung my bag

over my shoulder, picked up my box, and took one last look around

the department. Part of me felt a twinge of something–not quite

regret, but acknowledgment of an ending.