The site meeting was supposed to be routine.
Instead, it exploded.
“You can't cut the safety buffer to please investors," I snapped, slamming the updated budget onto the table.
Andrew didn't even flinch. “It's not cutting—it's recalibrating. Your overcorrections are making the project bleed."
“Oh, I'm sorry," I shot back. “Are my safety measures inconveniencing your ego?"
Mouths fell open around the table. No one spoke.
The silence after was heavy—like wet concrete.
He gathered his notes slowly. “You're letting emotion cloud execution."
“And you're letting detachment pass for leadership."
Later, Marla whispered to Claire that it sounded more like a breakup than a budget fight.
I wanted to scream. But I just walked away.
Back at my desk, I stared at the floor plan we'd argued ove
