I walked into the house, my body aching as if I’d been carrying the world on my back. Work had drained me, and all I wanted was to collapse. But laughter echoed from the garage, pulling me in.
Inside, Mark and his friend Greg were covered in grease, still tinkering with the same car they’d been “fixing” for weeks. When I asked why they were still at it, Greg suggested Mark could work two jobs until he found something. My patience snapped. I fired back, and Mark, rather than defending me, just shrugged.
One week later, I was exhausted from working two jobs, and when I came home to find the place a mess, Mark complained about dinner. I snapped. He suggested that maybe I should just handle everything because “that’s a woman’s job.” I told him I was done.
Later, Mark promised to take a job if offered, and sure enough, he got a mechanic job. But instead of relief, I felt cold—his smugness made me question his sincerity.
At work, I had a tense conversation with Jake about some new hires. Then, I stepped outside, only to see Mark and Greg among them. Mark’s face turned pale when he realized I was their boss. Greg’s confusion turned to realization, and Mark, finally acknowledging how much he’d taken me for granted, muttered an apology. I didn’t rush to forgive him. I told him, “Let’s see if you mean it,” and walked away.