Seven Years Wasted: I Took the Core Tech and Walked Away

Applause thundered through the room.

Onstage, Jocelyn Grant looped her arm through Derek Calloway's, smiling sweetly.

"Thank you, Mr. Calloway, and thank you, everyone, for your support. I wouldn't be where I am today, and neither would the company, without all of you."

Her words sounded modest, but the smug satisfaction in her eyes was impossible to hide. She repeatedly glanced at me on purpose. Her gaze was provocative.

One of my colleagues, who was standing beside me, nudged my arm and lowered her voice. "Kathy, weren't you the one in charge of this project? Why is Mr. Calloway giving her all the credit?"

I smiled a bitter smile as I shook my head. "If she wants it, she can have it."

My colleague looked stunned. "But you spent two whole years on this! I remember you nearly collapsing in the lab more than once. How can you just let it go like that?"

Indeed, it had been two years.

I hadn't slept properly in all that time. I practically lived in the lab, constantly worrying over formulas and experimental data.

I used to think I was doing all of this for a future Derek and I would share. No matter how hard it got, I never complained to him once. I just kept pushing through.

I never imagined that he would hand over everything I had worked for to a rookie who had barely been here, without the slightest hesitation.

Seeing the look on my face, Derek made his way through the crowd and stopped in front of me.

"Kathy, I know you contributed a lot, too. Don't worry. I'll still give you the promotion and raise I promised. Once the company goes public, you'll also get a share of the equity."

I looked at him in a daze. "Is that all you have to say?"

He paused for a moment.

I smiled, then unclipped my badge and handed it to Jocelyn. "You don't have to do all that. I'm giving her full credit for the project. She can have my position as the director too."

And she could have Derek.

The room fell silent, and whispers quickly spread.

Derek's expression darkened. "Don't say things you don't mean. I already told you, you'll get every bit of compensation and salary you deserve."

"I don't care about any of that anymore," I replied. "Whatever happens to the project or the company from here on out has nothing to do with me."

Ignoring the noise behind me, I turned and left.

Back in my office, I submitted my resignation to the HR department immediately.

I then went on my computer and started clearing out my files. Even though my thoughts were a mess, I still forced myself to stay professional. I organized the handover documents carefully before sending them to my team.

At the very end, only the incomplete drug development project remained on my screen.

Two years of work were all condensed into that one file.

For a biopharmaceutical company like ours, whether the IPO would pass review depended almost entirely on the progress of this drug.

It was also one of my dreams that I had yet to complete.

I consolidated the foundational materials and sent them over to my colleagues, but I kept the most critical parts.

As the inventor and patent holder of this drug, I had every right to take the core technical documents, clinical trial records, and data with me.

After shutting down my computer, I called our partner research team.

The moment they heard I was leaving, the other end of the line erupted in shock.

Our company had started from scratch, and most of the researchers had only agreed to collaborate because of me. After all, I was one of the top researchers in this field.

Someone asked anxiously, "Are we continuing the research?"

I went quiet for a moment before answering, "Let's pause for now, but I'm not giving up on this project. If an opportunity arises later, I'll work with you again."

After I hung up, the only thing left in my eyes was cold resolve. I wanted to see how they planned to pass the next stage of approval without me.