Resign with Grace, Return with Fire

I should've let go a long time ago.

As soon as I stepped out of the company, it started drizzling. And of course, I'd forgotten my umbrella.

As the rain hit my skin, the cold seeped straight through.

I thought about taking a cab, but when I checked my bank balance and wallet, I found that I only had 50 cents left. I couldn't even afford a ride.

Over the years, I had handed over my entire salary for Sandra to manage because she said we'd have plenty of expenses after we married.

To ensure that I wouldn't spend recklessly, she had me run every small purchase by her.

But when it came to Lester, she was always generous. Just last week, she bought him a three-million-dollar sports car.

The difference between being loved and not being loved couldn't be more obvious.

I smiled bitterly and walked home in the rain.

I finally got to the house Sandra and I shared. I was just about to change out of my shoes when I saw her in the kitchen. She was standing behind Lester, tying his apron, her expression tender.

"Ms. Wendell, just stand there. I promise I'll cook something that's perfectly to your taste," Lester said.

"Really? I'm pretty picky, you know," Sandra replied playfully.

The two of them flirted as if no one else was in the room. Their interactions were warm and harmonious.

Then, Sandra noticed me standing by the door. The smile faded from her face, and she coldly said, "Lester, just make enough for the two of us. After all, someone's got too much pride today. I'm sure he wouldn't want to eat here."

I knew what she was implying, but I didn't respond. I just bent down to change my shoes.

Frowning, Sandra raised her chin and shot me a glance. "Fred, since you're back, I assume that you've realized your mistake. Why are you just standing there? Apologize to Lester and make it right. I'll let this morning's incident slide then. I'll also keep your position in the company."

She was so focused on Lester that she didn't even notice how soaked I was, let alone care if I'd catch a cold.

Seeing her act so high and mighty, I felt nothing but a bitter chill. No matter how good we once were together, it was over between us.

Without uttering a single word, I walked past her and toward the balcony to gather the laundry.

Sandra, stung by my cold shoulder, was about to speak when Lester deliberately bumped into me with a bowl of soup.

He let out a theatrical cry of pain and flung himself to the floor, soaking himself in the spilled soup.

He yelled, "Ah! It's so hot! Fred, even if you're mad at me, you don't need to go this far!"

He lay there, clutching his burned hand.

This was Lester's go-to move for driving a wedge between Sandra and me. At the office, he would pretend to work late just to claim that I was mistreating him, or he would splash water on himself and tell Sandra that I'd lashed out at him.

I used to ignore it, but not this time.

If he wanted to play the victim, I'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

I grabbed a plate from the table. Before Lester could even stand up, I dumped the stir-fried dish right on top of him.

Greasy sauce dripped from his hair. Lester screamed, and his eyes brimmed with tears.

Sandra rushed over and pushed me aside before roaring, "Fred, are you crazy? Why are you always picking on Lester? You've really disappointed me."

I smirked. "Disappointed, huh? Well, that's great. Let's stay out of each other's lives forever."

Sandra's face turned bright red with fury, and she couldn't say anything for a long time. Meanwhile, Lester was still moaning, so she had no choice but to bring him to the hospital.

As the door slammed shut behind them, the house finally grew quiet.

I let out a sigh, and it felt like a weight lifted off my chest.

Sandra and I were really over.

At that thought, I pulled out my phone and dialed the HR department at Skyborne Group, the top company in the field.