“Tyron! I heard from Verity that you made the birthday cake today. Is that true? I never would’ve guessed a man like you could whip up something so impressive! Meanwhile, I’m all thumbs and can’t even print a report without Verity swooping in to save me!”
When Colton invited me to the birthday party, Verity's voice sliced through the air. “Tyron, you don’t need to come,” she said sharply before hanging up.
A few minutes later, however, I received a message from her with a location: [When you come over, bring Colton a pack of cigarettes from the nearby store.]
As I pushed open the private room door, I saw Verity feeding Colton a slice of cake.
I knew Colton had sent the location and message, yet I still found myself drawn in despite the tension.
As Colton beamed at me with a friendly “brother,” Verity shot me a sharp glare. “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” she admonished, somewhat irritated.
“Sorry, Verity. I just wanted a cigarette, so I tricked Tyron into coming,” Colton confessed, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
Seeing him look so vulnerable, Verity couldn’t help but lean against his arm, her demeanor softening as she reassured him that she wasn’t upset. Recognizing it as the perfect moment, I pulled out my resignation letter, ready to leap.
“Verity, a colleague has a family emergency and needs to leave urgently. Could you please approve this?” I said, my heart racing.
In most cases, resignation applications would have gone through the HR department. However, when the HR manager saw my name on the form, he simply returned it without hesitation.
Verity was lost in her playful banter with Colton in the softly lit private room. As I watched her, she signed the form without even a fleeting glance at the name, exactly as I had hoped.
As my fingers grazed the edge of the form, Verity's hand suddenly pressed down on mine. She paused, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully before asking, "Tyron, did you come here just for this?"
With my nod, her features hardened, growing visibly tense. Instantly, she jerked her hand back as if she had touched something unpleasant.
It dawned on me that her disgust likely stemmed from the blisters on my hand, remnants of the molten sugar I'd wrestled with in the kitchen. Knowing I had sickened her weighed heavily on my heart.