"This violates multiple codes in our professional conduct policy." Ms. Pearson said, "including misuse of company funds." Colt tried to speak. Vanessa cut in. "Wait, this wasn't it wasn't predatory.
We're adults. It was consensual." "That's not the issue." Ms. Pearson replied, steel in her voice. "You're his superior.
You never disclosed the relationship. And the company has a strict policy. You both knew that." But Vanessa's voice faltered. "Who would even" Her eyes drifted toward Colt, but he was already slumping forward, wiping sweat from his brow.
"You set me up." He muttered to her. "You said it would be fine." "Don't you dare blame me." She hissed under her breath.
"You were the one who" "Enough." Ms. Pearson snapped. "We'll be in touch. For now, you are both suspended pending final review." And just like that, Ten years of work vaporized in the span of 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, I was downtown having drinks with Dylan, watching the building lights flicker across the skyline. "It's done." I said sipping whiskey. "And?" he asked. "HR meetings, suspensions, fallout."
Dylan raised his glass. "To poetic justice." But I didn't toast. I wasn't smiling. Because this wasn't about celebration.
It was about closure. That night, I received a long email from Vanessa. Rambling, conflicted, apologetic. "Liam, I know it was you. I know you sent it.
You told me the storm was coming. I just didn't think you meant it literally. I don't even know what to say anymore. You were right about everything. Colt's disappeared.
HR is done with me. I tried to save face, but I couldn't. I lost everything. My job, my reputation, and you. I lost you long before that, didn't I?
Please talk to me. Even if it's just to scream. I deserve that." I didn't reply. Not out of cruelty, but because words weren't enough anymore.
And deep down, she knew that. The next blow came fast. Colt, realizing Vanessa had tried to downplay the affair and shift blame onto him, ghosted her completely. Deleted his socials, didn't return her calls. Rumor had it he left town, moved back to live with his brother in Kansas.
Vanessa spiraled. She tried to backtrack her way into some corporate credibility, but the HR report had gone beyond internal walls. Her name had been flagged in hiring circles. The marketing industry was connected by whispers, and hers was now tied to unprofessional conduct. Meanwhile, I kept moving forward.
My graphic novel got picked up by a publisher. An editor named Rhea took a liking to my work and we started working late into the evenings. She was smart, straightforward, sharp-eyed, nothing like Vanessa. One night, while reviewing character dialogue, she paused. You write heartbreak really well.
I looked up. Maybe I just lived it. "Still bleeding?" No, I said, shutting the laptop softly. Just drawing the scars.