Don't Wait for the Rain to Clear
It started with a sudden downpour.
I turned around to buy an umbrella. By the time I got back, Winston Sterling had already draped his overcoat across Sera Thorne’s shoulders.
He pulled me under the umbrella, his tone gentle, as if soothing a spoiled child. "Sera can't handle the cold. Just let her have it this once, Nat. Be a good girl. Don't make a fuss."
I looked down at my own shoulder, which was already completely soaked through. I didn't say a word.
We had been building our startup for five years. Everyone always said Winston and Sera were the dual heart and soul of Sterling Tech. One wrote the code, while the other pitched the product.
Meanwhile, I was the one managing the budgets, chasing down clients, advancing money for our office rent, and pulling all-nighters to grind out business proposals. Yet, all I ever got from him was a single, offhand sentence.
"Nat, you're always the reasonable one."
But I finally understood. It was always the reasonable one who got pushed out into the rain, time and time again.
When the car door opened, Winston practiced an all-too-familiar routine, adjusting the passenger seat cushion for Sera.
That was a lumbar support cushion I had bought for myself after injuring my waist.
I threw the newly purchased umbrella straight into the trash can. Then, I pulled up my phone and clicked send on the equity exit agreement I had prepared long ago.
Three minutes later, his reply came back as a brief, three-word text.
"Don't be silly."
What he didn't know was that at that exact same moment, I had also opened another email.