Chapter 3: Day 17: Her Provocation
929 Words
The next morning, I went downstairs to throw out the trash.
When that black plastic bag containing the pink mug and a pile of old magazines was tossed into the community's giant dumpster, it didn't make a sound. The garbage truck would soon haul it away, completely erasing the traces of its existence in this home.
Just like some relationships—when they've rotted to the core, they can only be thrown away.
Arriving at the company, the air was filled with the aroma of coffee and the white noise of tapping keyboards. I had just sat down at my cubicle and was preparing to organize the minutes from today's executive meeting when I smelled a familiar, sweet and cloying rose scent.
Holding a latte, Nora leisurely sauntered over to my desk area.
Today she was wearing a V-neck silk blouse, the skin at her collarbones dazzlingly white. She leaned against my partition, sipping her coffee while looking at me with a gaze that was extremely innocent yet laced with a bit of smugness.
"Morning, Chloe." Her voice was very sweet, overlapping with the panting sounds coming from behind the CEO's office door that noon.
"Morning." I didn't even look up, continuing to stare at my computer screen. "Do you need something?"
"Nothing else, just came to say thank you." Nora chuckled softly and deliberately pulled her collar down a bit, revealing a slender neck on one side. "Didn't you miss bringing lunch yesterday noon? Mr. Philip said his stomach hurt, so I accompanied him downstairs for a nice meal. Thanks to you not coming, Chloe, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to enjoy that big feast."
She thought she was showing off, but in my eyes, she was just like a jumping clown who had picked up the trash I didn't want and treated it like a treasure.
What was even more ironic was that, following the collar she had pulled open, I clearly saw a distinct red mark near her collarbone.
"Oh my," Nora feigned a gasp, reaching up to touch the red mark, offering a lame cover-up. "The mosquitoes are so toxic in this weather. In the office yesterday noon, I don't know how I got such a big bite. Chloe, do you have any cooling oil?"
She stared straight into my eyes, trying to catch anger, jealousy, or a breakdown on my face.
The temperature in the office seemed to drop to the freezing point in an instant. I stopped my typing hands, looked up, and quietly stared at her.
Three seconds later, I took a bottle of cooling oil out of my drawer and handed it over.
"Take it, this bottle hasn't even been used. It's yours." My voice was so calm it didn't have a single ripple.
Nora clearly hadn't expected this reaction from me. She froze, her hand extended in mid-air, a bit stiff: "Chloe, you..."
"Also," I added indifferently, "next time you get 'bitten by a mosquito' in the office, remember to pull the blinds shut tighter. Otherwise, it makes for a bad impression."
Nora's face instantly turned deathly pale. She looked at me as if looking at a monster, snatched the cooling oil, and fled in a panic, her heels clicking.
Watching her somewhat flustered retreating back, I twitched the corners of my mouth, finding it merely dull. If it had been three days ago, I might have given her a slap or barged into the president's office to have a huge fight with Philip. But now, facing their clumsy performances, I didn't even have the energy to get angry.
I turned around, opened the company's internal OA system, and pulled up an email the HR department had sent a few days ago.
It was an internal recruitment notice for a Senior Planning Director to be stationed at the European branch. Because it required a permanent assignment in London for at least three years and involved taking over a mess, no one in the company wanted to go. Philip had mentioned this to me before, and I had refused without a second thought because I couldn't bear to leave him, nor could I bear to give up the wedding we had planned.
But now, this had become a perfect ticket for a lifeboat.
Without hesitation, I downloaded the intent application form, skillfully signed my name, and replied directly to the HR Director.
Ten minutes later, my extension rang.
"Chloe, are you sure you want to apply for the position in London?" The HR Director's voice was full of surprise. "Does Mr. Philip know about this? This is a three-year overseas assignment."
"He doesn't need to know, this is my personal career plan," I replied calmly. "Also, please keep this a secret for me temporarily."
The other end of the line was silent for a moment, followed by a sigh: "Alright, since you've decided. However, the procedures for an overseas transfer are quite complicated. We still need to process a new work visa and authority handover. From approval to becoming fully effective, it will take about fifteen days."
Fifteen days.
I looked at my desk calendar. There were exactly 17 days left until our three-year anniversary. In other words, two days before the anniversary, all my transfer procedures would be completed, and there would be nothing left to tie me down.
"Okay, fifteen days is plenty," I said softly.
Hanging up the phone, I looked at the high-rise buildings outside the window and let out a long sigh of relief.
Soon. Very soon, I could put an end to all of this.
- Writer
