The moment I finished speaking, Celia's expression shifted.
She grabbed my suitcase, knuckles white. "Alex, I won't let you leave!" Her voice pitched higher. "Just apologize to me, and I'll forgive you. You can come back to the company!"
I looked at her and shook my head.
Turn back? How could I possibly turn back?
For an entire year, even my own salary and bonuses had gone to someone else. What kind of logic was that?
Before I could respond, her phone rang. The screen flashed: Nathan Henson.
She answered immediately, her tone shifting to something soft and urgent. "Nathan, I know! Don't borrow money—I'm coming to find you right now!" A pause. "Alex is fine, he's just throwing a tantrum. He doesn't lack money at all, why would he care about that little bit?" Her voice turned reassuring. "Don't worry. I'll make him apologize to you."
As she spoke, her grip on my suitcase loosened. Then she hurried off without another glance.
I watched her go, and all that remained was disappointment.
She was still planning to make me apologize to Nathan?
In that moment, I gave up on Celia Gilbert completely.
After handing the keys to the landlord, I called a car and headed straight to the airport.
My phone rang as I arrived. Celia again.
"Alex, where did you go?" Her voice was sharp the second I picked up. "Do you know that because of you, Nathan is about to borrow from loan sharks?" She was practically shouting now. "You forced this! Come back right now and apologize to him!"
I smiled. "Ms. Gilbert, that was money I earned through my own labor. You just handed it to Nathan instead." I kept my voice even. "You could give me what's mine. As for Nathan's money—you can cover that yourself."
Silence. Then her breathing grew heavier.
I knew the truth. Her startup was barely afloat. She'd never had much money of her own. All this time, she'd been using my earnings to keep Nathan happy.
But what did that have to do with me?
"Alex, you don't lack money!" she snapped.
I was done explaining. The money I "didn't lack" came from my parents. For her sake, I'd poured everything into that company for a year—and hadn't seen a single dollar in salary or commission.
"Ms. Gilbert, me not lacking money doesn't give you the right to withhold my pay. You haven't given me one cent this entire year."
"Alex Rowe!" Her voice cracked with frustration. "Have you lost your mind over money? I'm so disappointed in you!"
I laughed.
Then I hung up.
There was no point continuing this conversation. Nothing I said would change anything.
I sent one final message: Ms. Gilbert, don't bother calling again. As for my salary and bonuses—my lawyer will be in touch.
