As she spoke, Sean played a voice message on her phone. It was that little boy from yesterday—his voice sweet and smug.
"Auntie Sean, wasn’t I awesome? Don’t forget the Transformers toy you promised me!"
And just like that, the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. So that’s how it all went down. My instincts screamed for me to get out of there immediately. But before I could move, she snatched the cup of tea from my hands and poured it over her own head.
Then she smashed the ceramic cup at my feet. Shards of porcelain exploded around me, some even cutting my ankles.
The tea was cold, long since forgotten, but it still dripped down her face and soaked her blouse. Her hair hung in wet, messy strands and she looked exactly how she wanted to: pitiful, humiliated, the victim.
This woman wasn’t just ruthless—she was terrifying. She blocked my way, refusing to let me leave and started screaming. “Meggy! What are you doing?! Why would you hurt me like this?!”
Her shrill voice echoed through the office. And sure enough, the commotion drew coworkers from every corner. Not done with her performance, she took her coffee and splashed it across her chest. Then, just like before, she scratched at her neck until it turned red and raw.
I’d had enough. I slapped her. Hard. That was the moment Simon walked in—and saw me, standing tall, while Sean looked like a drowned, battered kitten. He didn’t hesitate. He slapped me.
“Meggy! If you don’t want this job anymore, then get the hell out!”
Still seething, he shoved me aside and swept Sean up in a bridal carry, like a damn hero saving the damsel in distress and carried her into his office.
I stumbled back, crashing into the edge of a desk. The pain shot up my spine and tears sprang to my eyes. The HR manager, who had been hesitant about approving my resignation just moments before, now signed it without a second thought.
Simon didn’t even glance at the form. While comforting Sean, he scrawled his signature and tossed the paper aside like trash.
The finance department, always quick to kiss up to whoever was in power, rushed to process my final paycheck, eager to please their new boss's favorite girl.
I still had a stack of client materials that needed to be handed off, so I organized everything and prepared to email it to Simon. But when I logged into my work account, I was already locked out.
My entire company email had been deleted. Only one person had the authority to do that. Simon. I tried texting him. Then calling him. Blocked. Phone. messanger. Everything.
I stood there for a moment, stunned, but only for a moment. Then I packed the last of my things, deleted every trace of myself from the company systems and left without looking back. Straight to the airport.
