Chapter 2

The next day, I went to the office to finish my last project. I'd been working on it for more than six months. I'd drawn hundreds of blueprints. I couldn't just leave it unfinished.

In the conference room, Cindy pushed Caleb to the front and said, "The last project launched ahead of schedule because Cal pulled several all-nighters. He deserves most of the credit."

Then, her eyes landed on me, and her voice turned cold. "As the lead designer, some people need to pick up the pace. Don't make the new guy clean up after you."

My drawings and proposal had been carefully organized and sent to the project group one by one just last night. I was the one who'd pulled three straight all-nighters.

Ironically, I was the one getting publicly reprimanded.

After the meeting, Cindy called the entire team out for dinner at an upscale Akhtelian restaurant.

She remarked, "Cal loves fresh seafood. Let's not forget the lobster and sea urchin."

After making sure everyone knew what he liked, she casually pushed a set meal toward me. It was the cheapest option on the menu.

"Zachary, you can have this. We're saving for an apartment, so we need to cut costs wherever we can," she said callously.

She remembered exactly what Caleb liked, but she'd forgotten that I was allergic to seafood. I couldn't touch a single piece of the food spread out on the table.

Somehow, she still remembered to tell me to save money for our apartment.

What she never knew was that six months ago, when Caleb had lost his job and was desperate, I was the one who brought him to her.

I had convinced Cindy. "His background is a perfect fit for us, and he's a hard worker. Give him a chance."

After he arrived, I somehow became the inconsiderate one. When we both worked late into the night, she'd let Caleb take a cab home and reimburse him. But when she saw me still working hard at my seat, she frowned and complained.

"Why are you still in the office? Do you think the electricity and water bills are cheap?"

Caleb once mentioned craving fresh sea urchin, and she drove five miles out of her way to get some for him. When I had a fever and asked her to pick up some medicine, she told me there was cold medicine at home and that it would work just as well.

She kept saying Caleb knew how to make people feel good, but all that emotional support came at my expense. It was built on my sleepless nights, my work, my savings, and all the times I swallowed my pride and gave in.

After dinner, she wanted to drag me to go see our new apartment. "Come on. Let's go take a look. We can figure out how we want to decorate it."

I brushed her hand away and said, "I'm not going."

Caleb came over with a smile and draped an arm around my shoulder. "Come on, Zach. Come with us. I could use your opinion."

Cindy sighed helplessly. "Are you still mad? It's just an apartment. Don't be so petty."

Without a second thought, she had Caleb take the driver's seat while she sat in the passenger seat. It wasn't until I climbed into the back seat that I realized something.

At some point, this car had become Caleb's, too. He'd only been here for six months, yet I hadn't driven Cindy's car once since he arrived.

She went out of her way every day to pick him up. She said he had to take a 20-minute bus ride to work and lived too far away.

I lived on the other side of town. It took me two hours by bus and subway just to get to work. She'd never once asked if I needed a ride.

Caleb said he wanted to tear out the entire bedroom, living room, and study and redesign the layout. Cindy agreed without batting an eye.

She'd probably forgotten that I'd spent weeks creating a thick stack of design plans for this house. Every page accounted for the structure, spatial flow, natural light, and even how each room would function.

Now, she was casually throwing it all away.

But then again, the apartment had nothing to do with me anymore.

Caleb was still flipping through my designs as he commented, "Zach, this layout is pretty good, but this style feels a little cold. I'd like something warmer."

As if it was the most natural thing to do, Cindy ordered, "Then make a new version based on what Cal likes. You're the professional. It shouldn't take you long. Is three days enough?"

I pulled the drawings out of his hands and objected. "These were designs I made for my own home. When did I ever say you could use them?"

Cindy disapproved and wouldn't have any of it. "You won't be needing them anymore anyway. What are you planning to do with all those drawings?"

I said nothing and stared out the window. The sunlight was painfully bright and so glaring that my eyes began to hurt.