When She Chose Another Man, I Chose to Leave

My fingers dug into the plastic handles of the grocery bag until my knuckles turned white.

When I wanted a raise, we were "family" and I needed to be understanding.

Now that I was defending myself, it was a "professional relationship" and I had to respect my leader.

I dropped the meat on her desk, my voice deadly calm. "Joanna, I'm getting back to work. Remember to transfer me the money for the meat."

I sat down and woke my computer. A notification popped up immediately—a trending post: *Don't let small companies steal your passion.*

The top comment read: *[The boss's way of rewarding your ability to endure hardship is to give you more work, not more money.]*

I froze for two seconds, reflecting on my last two years.

The first year, the accounts showed results. One viral video brought the company 100,000 in revenue. Blake's reward? Assigning me five new accounts.

The second year, all six accounts broke 500,000 followers. The company's quarterly revenue topped a million. With no change in my workload, Blake assigned me even more content.

I had asked for a raise twice. Both times, Blake said young people shouldn't be too calculating. He told me to look at the long-term returns—stock options and a partnership once we went public.

Every application for a salary increase was rejected.

I opened a recruiting app and uploaded my resume.

In less than ten minutes, my inbox was flooded.

**Isabella Lambert:** *[Ms. Floyd, your experience and skills are a perfect match for our Operations position. Probation salary is 8K, full benefits, and housing allowance. Do you have time to chat?]*

Before I could reply, Blake Rowe called me into his office.

He sat in his leather boss chair, sipping tea. "I heard what Joanna said earlier. Ms. Floyd, don't argue with her. I recognize your professional ability. The accounts you manage have generated significant revenue. You alone are worth several employees." He paused for dramatic effect. "After we hire more staff next year, we'll move you into management."

I adjusted my coat and looked at him in silence.

He said the same thing last year.

He said the same thing the year before that.

But the recruitment notice was never posted.

Why? Because I did everything. Blake held meetings and made decisions. Joanna handled the money—tightly—and only hired a part-time accountant for the books. Copywriting, editing, operations, client relations—that was all me.

I was worth several people, so there was no need for him to waste money hiring anyone else.

I stared him down. "Since I'm worth several people, why do I only get 4,500?"

Blake blinked.

"Mr. Rowe, I manage six accounts in different verticals. I pitch content for six different directions every day. I get two days off a month. Even when I'm home, I'm replying to clients. I brought in million-dollar revenue, yet my year-end bonus was 1,000 dollars and three boxes of fruit." My voice remained steady. "I can wait for you to hire people next year, but management can't survive on four thousand five, can they?"

Blake's face darkened instantly at the mention of money.

"The company is struggling right now. Rent, utilities—these are all costs. Even with revenue, the net profit isn't high." He sighed, pivoting to lecture me on the job market. "Companies out there are all bait-and-switch operations—just sales jobs in disguise. What can you actually learn in a place like that?"

He stood up and walked around the desk to pat my shoulder, his tone dripping with earnest manipulation.

"Ms. Floyd, I'm grooming you like my own little sister. I take you on business trips to learn on the company's dime. Haven't I brought you to every team-building event? When we go public, you get stock options. When we hire, you get management. Why are you calculating over petty short-term profits? Don't worry—follow me, and I won't treat you badly."

My nails dug into my palms.

It was always the same script.

"I understand," I said flatly.

He waved a hand, dismissing me. "Polish that copy a bit more. And work overtime tonight to finish the documents for my business trip tomorrow."

I turned on my heel and walked out.

The moment I was back at my desk, I sent Isabella Lambert my contact information.