Summer in a Glass Jar

Opening the company group chat, I found it had already exploded. Messages tagging me had blown past ninety-nine notifications.

"Betty, maybe you're misunderstanding? Ronald and Christina are just colleagues."

"Exactly—Christina's just a young girl, fresh out of college. Don't scare her like that."

"Betty, Ronald has always been so good to you. How could you publicly humiliate him?"

A wave of nausea hit me as I scrolled through the twisted, sycophantic comments. Half of these people were ones I’d personally hired and mentored from the ground up; now, to curry favor with the boss and his new flame, they were turning their knives on me without a second thought.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened Ronald’s social media feed.

Beneath that glaring post, the comments section had become a stage for loyalty pledges.

"Ronald and Christina are such a perfect match! A true power couple!"

"Christina is so lucky to have a boss like Ronald looking out for her."

Underneath, Christina had left a uniform reply, complete with a bashful emoji: "Thank you, everyone! But Ronald and I really are just colleagues. He’s always treated me like a big brother, that’s all."

The cloying sweetness of her performance practically seeped through the screen.

I let out a cold laugh, then compiled everything for my lawyer: the post, my receipt for the pajamas, the original design drafts, and close-ups of the embroidered initials. Every detail.

Then, calmly, I typed my final message into the company chat:

"To everyone: effective today, I am resigning from all my positions at Oceanview Translations. Thank you for the six years. Our paths diverge here. Wishing you all the best on yours."

I sent it, then exited every work group, silenced my phone, and tossed it aside.

Finally. Peace.