"Mr. Delgado, this morning the moment Winona received her flowers, Supervisor Maxwell ordered her to print hundreds of pages of complete gibberish within the hour. Winona stood by the printer until her back was about to break, and the printouts are obviously garbage nobody would ever read. If that's not textbook workplace bullying, what is?"
Philip glanced at the stack of half-printed documents on the desk, and whatever flicker of sympathy he'd had vanished in an instant. He yanked out a sheaf of pages, glared at the incomprehensible-looking content, and tore them to shreds in a fury, flinging the pieces all over me.
"And here I was, thinking about making it up to you. Delgado Corp has always prided itself on a culture of caring for its employees. A vicious woman like you, bullying your own subordinates — you're an absolute disgrace!"
Behind the shower of paper scraps, Winona and her little clique wore triumphant smiles.
But Philip didn't know that those pages contained the cutting-edge technical report I'd spent five sleepless nights completing. I'd had the intern print it that morning so I could deliver it to Eastwell Group — the biggest client in the industry — before the bid opening, and lock down the project before their decision-makers went into closed deliberations.
He grabbed another fistful of pages and slapped them hard across my face.
"Apologize to Winona. Now!"
The razor-thin edges of the A4 paper left streaks of blood across my cheek. The stinging pain was nothing compared to the desolation settling deep in my chest.
I bent down and gathered the documents I'd poured my heart into, my voice as cold as the hollow ache inside me.
"She spent the entire morning showing off her flowers instead of meeting my one-hour deadline for these files. If anyone owes an apology, it's her."
Philip's expression darkened further. He stepped forward and seized me by the collar.
"Cora Maxwell, when did you become this petty and vicious? You're clearly the one in the wrong. Are you really so eaten up with jealousy that you've lost all shame? Get on your knees and apologize to Winona, and I... might still let you stay on the team."
The pack of sycophants erupted.
"You homewrecking tramp — using your position to push people around, bullying the real girlfriend, and you have the nerve to demand an apology?"
"Wasting company resources on a stack of useless paper, disrupting everyone's work — why should a selfish piece of trash like you be a supervisor?"
"You've always known your own worth. You gave up your salary and benefits to throw yourself at Mr. Delgado for free. Today a bouquet of flowers finally made you drop the act, huh?"
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
When Philip and I married, we had nothing. But he knew I loved flowers, and he used to pick wildflowers from the roadside to bring home to me. We were dirt poor back then, yet our hearts were full.
Then he insisted on starting a business. Every penny was stretched to its limit, and flowers were the last thing on his mind. I was already a well-known name in the industry — a technical expert with a reputation that preceded me — so I poured my money and my expertise into supporting his dream.
By last year the company had finally gained traction. He expanded the team, hired a batch of interns, and pushed to capture market share. I'd watched him struggle every step of the way. I knew how grueling the journey had been, so I joined Delgado Corp without a salary and gave up every perk and bonus to the new hires.
Even when the rumors about him and Winona reached my ears.
Even when I learned that Winona — a mere intern — was filing expense claims with no receipts and no spending cap.
Even when she'd been there barely a year, couldn't handle basic printing, yet received a sports car as her year-end bonus.
Philip said it was all "to show appreciation for the team and build morale," and I believed him.
But today — this one small gesture, flowers for Women's Day — I'd been so sure he'd remember what I loved. That he wouldn't leave me out.
I never imagined that all my years of silent sacrifice and unwavering support would earn me nothing but everyone's conviction that I didn't deserve a thing.
I pointed at the data on the scattered pages, my voice raw with anguish as I looked at Philip.
"This is the technical data I burned myself out to produce. If Winona had met my deadline this morning, this report alone could have secured the Eastwell bid ahead of schedule. Now it's all destroyed. So tell me — shouldn't she be the one walking out that door?"
