From the second-floor window, I watched him walk away. A pang of regret stirred in my chest.
If he had just held on a little longer, maybe I would have softened. But, as always, he left, slipping away when I needed him most.
I stared at my phone, where Monica’s latest post glared back at me
[I called my childhood sweetheart over with just one call. It feels so good to be cared for by a busy person.]
The screenshot showed Marcell’s reply too.
[Marcell: I will be there soon.]
Her note was simple, yet pointed, ‘Honey.’
Almost immediately, mutual friends began messaging, asking if everything was all right. I gave the same answer to each.
[Carla: We’ve broken up. I wish them a happy marriage.]
What I did not expect was that even though I was planning to break up quietly, some people still would not let me go.
The hospital called and said that my father’s medical expenses for that month had not been paid and it had been delayed for several days.
So, I checked my bank card and found that the month's salary had not been credited.
I angrily called the company's finance department, but there was no answer.
I have worked like a slave for Marcell for so many years and my salary was lower than that of most leaders.
That day was supposed to be payday, but it had not arrived yet.
Everyone in the company knew about Marcell and me. They also knew the company’s current success was built on my relentless work and dedication.
So, when I noticed my salary had been lower, the motive was obvious. It was Marcell’s doing, no doubt.
With that realization, I dialed Marcell immediately, but the call went unanswered.
As frustration boiled over, I drove straight to the company, determined to confront him, only to be stopped at the entrance by security.
Monica was wearing a high-end dress and had a general manager's ID card hanging around her neck.
When she saw me, she was very surprised, “Haven't you been fired? Why are you still coming to the company?”
I suppressed my anger and asked, “When was I fired? How come I did not know?”
Monica spread her hands and smiled, “Didn't you want to break up with Marcell yesterday? This company is his. If he wants to fire you, does he have to ask you for permission?”
I clenched my fists and wanted to slap her.
But my father was still in the ICU of the hospital and I had to pay the medical bills on time every month.