The resignation letter was still warm from the printer, the smell of ink clinging to it.
"You're sure about this?"
My supervisor's face didn't show much, since he'd already approached me about it privately before. But there was real regret in his voice.
"With your talent, staying at this company is a waste."
He pressed a business card into my hand. Printed on it was the name and contact information of one of the top firms in Shoreline City.
I took it and politely declined his kindness.
"I understand everything you're saying, but Dana still needs my help."
After graduation, Dana and I had joined this company together.
Dana wasn't short on ability. He just couldn't bring himself to swallow his pride.
A client would push back a couple of times, and he'd toss his files down and walk out.
Under the double pressure of quotas and the mortgage, I often saw him hunched in the stairwell, smoking in silence.
So afterward, every client I closed, I'd hand them Dana's card before they left.
"Mr. Gilbert will be handling everything from here. He's more of an expert than I am."
The day he made sales champion, he spun me around in our apartment, the grin on his face impossible to stop.
In that moment, I'd thought all of it was worth it.
Now, I didn't hesitate. I nodded.
"I'm sure."
As I walked out of the company, the phone in my pocket buzzed.
"Hello, is this Ms. Harding? About the wedding gown you ordered with us…"
I flagged down a cab and got in.
"I don't need it anymore. Just cancel it for me."
There was a pause on the other end. "But… ma'am, perhaps you should come in and see it for yourself."
A flicker of confusion crossed my mind, but I gave the driver the address anyway.
The second I pushed the door open, I heard a familiar voice inside.
Samantha was wearing my wedding gown, the side zipper strained open along a split seam.
"What kind of quality is this? I only wore it once and it tore."
The shop assistant stood beside her, scrambling to explain.
"This was custom-made to Ms. Harding's measurements. Some places not fitting are unavoidable."
When they saw me, all three of them froze.
Dana strode over and planted himself in front of Samantha, shielding her completely behind him.
I didn't look at them. I waved the assistant over and paid the balance with my card.
Then I picked up the scissors lying nearby and slashed a long gash through the skirt.
Samantha's eyes reddened on the spot, brimming with tears, which only made her look more pitiful and lovely.
Dana seized my hand, stopping me.
"What are you doing!"
I lifted my eyes to him, my tone matter-of-fact.
"This is mine. What I do with it is my business."
"You're the one who should explain why you brought someone else to try on my dress."
He wrenched the scissors out of my hand, crouched down, and inspected the tear carefully.
"Samantha's ex-husband never gave her a wedding. She's never worn a bridal gown, so I wanted to bring her here to feel what it's like."
The more he talked, the more his patience drained away, until he shot to his feet.
"But now it's all ruined."
"You're a woman too. Shouldn't you understand better than anyone what a wedding gown means to a woman?"
I looked at the coldness in his eyes and suddenly realized I had never truly known Dana at all.
How else could he say something so hypocritically two-faced?
"If you understand all that, then did it ever occur to you what this gown means to me?"
But Dana didn't spare me so much as a glance.
He soothed Samantha, coaxing her out of the ill-fitting gown.
"Carmen, this isn't the time to throw a tantrum."
He flung the gown at me, knocking my hair out of place.
