As she spoke, she lunged for my phone, as if ready to type out my resignation email herself.
I sidestepped, dodging her grasp.
Looking at the two people who were supposed to be closest to me, who now looked like two greedy beasts, I felt suffocated.
A chill settled deep in my heart.
Franklin wasn't like this before we were married.
He would play the piano for me at Lincoln Center and whisper gently that he would always support my career and my dreams.
But after we got married, especially after my career took off and completely overshadowed his, everything changed.
He became sensitive, paranoid, and increasingly unable to tolerate the fact that I was more successful than him.
"Enough!"
Franklin grabbed his hysterical mother, his chilling gaze fixed on me.
"Ava, I'm giving you one last chance."
He spoke each word slowly, as if forcing them through his teeth.
"Resign voluntarily by this Friday."
"Otherwise, don't blame me for what I do next."
With that, he dragged the still-sputtering Sharon into the bedroom and slammed the door.
I was left alone in the living room.
Alone with the shattered, now-dull trophy on the floor.
So much for our love.
Fine. I was curious to see what he'd do.
For the next few days, a strange calm settled over the house.
Franklin and Sharon no longer mentioned my resignation, nor did they pressure me to stop taking my pills.
They even offered me smiles I hadn't seen in a long time.
Sharon prepared elaborate, exquisite meals every day, fussing over me with questions about my well-being.
Franklin started coming home from work earlier than usual to embrace me and even help with some chores.
But I knew that beneath this placid surface, a massive storm was brewing.
On Thursday afternoon, I was in my office, putting the final touches on the proposal for the city art museum's final bid.
This was the firm's most important project of the year, and I was in complete charge of it.
Franklin walked in carrying a latte, an obsequious smile on his face.
