Chapter 4: Resignation
Derek came back to the office the next afternoon. As soon as he walked in, he called me over.
When I opened the door, he was slouched in his chair, head in his hands, thumbs digging into his temples. Migraine, courtesy of his hangover.
His desk was a disaster: paperwork everywhere, a half-empty Starbucks cup gone cold, blinds drawn, the air tinged with that sharp, medicinal smell of headache balm.
"Sort out the Pinecrest project and hand it over to Emily."
I stopped, caught off guard. "What?"
He didn’t repeat himself—just fixed me with a stare.
"The Pinecrest project is important. Emily’s not ready—"
"That’s why she needs a shot. A big project for her resume."
I clamped my mouth shut.
"Natalie Harper, I’m not asking."
Derek slammed his palm on the desk. The bang echoed, making Emily—hovering outside—flinch. I took a deep breath, unclenching my fists. "Fine. But I have one condition."
He tilted his chin, signaling me to continue.
"Don’t change the original team. Make her the project lead, but everyone keeps their bonuses and dividends. No one gets shafted."
"Fine. You have my word."
With that, I left.
It took an hour and a half to wrap up the files and explain everything to the team. Their faces ran the gamut—pity, sympathy, anger, even a little outrage.
I rapped the table. "Let’s keep it professional. No drama about loyalty or whatever. This is work—just do your job and get paid."
The silence was thick, broken only by the nervous click of someone’s pen. I caught my reflection in the glass wall—straight-backed, eyes hard. That was all the armor I had left.
Once everything was ready, I went back to Derek’s office. Emily was there too, feeding him cookies with a bright smile.
Derek’s never liked sweets. He frowned but let her do it anyway.
It felt surreal, seeing them there—her voice high, his face resigned. Their little rituals, forced but somehow inevitable, played out in what used to be my space.
Emily jumped up as I entered. "If you two need to talk, I’ll step out."
"No need," Derek said, shoving the cookie box at her. "Go eat over there."
Then, to me, coldly: "Next time, knock before you come in."
Did I forget to knock? I guess I did. Old habits, I thought.
"There won’t be a next time."
"What?"
I set the stack of documents on his desk, locking eyes with him as I slid the last sheet—a resignation letter—across the surface.
Derek paused for a couple seconds. When he looked up, his eyes were pure ice.
"What’s this? You trying to threaten me?"
I shook my head. "You’re reading too much into it. I’ve had the resignation ready for months, just waiting for Pinecrest to wrap up. Now it’s done, I’m done. It’s the right time to go."
Derek glared. Emily looked like she wanted to shrink into the carpet.
"Ms. Harper, I’ll drop out of the project if you want. Please don’t be mad. I know I’m not qualified—I just wanted to learn from you. I’ll withdraw, I’m sorry."
Derek’s face got even darker. He yanked Emily back to his side. "If you want to do it, do it. Don’t apologize to anyone."
"Resigning, huh? You think the company will fall apart without you?"
He grabbed a pen and scrawled his signature at the bottom, tossing the resignation letter in front of me. "Get out."
I looked down at the paper, then back up. "One more thing."
His jaw tightened.
"Since you and Emily are getting married, shouldn’t we end our marriage first?"
Even Emily stopped crying, clutching Derek’s arm, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
Derek stiffened. He slowly turned to me. "What did you say?"
"I said let’s get divorced too—while we’re at it."
The words rolled out and hung in the air like the slow, heavy click of a door closing forever.
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