Chapter 5
My gaze was clear and determined—there wasn't a hint of confusion or hesitation left.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Then, I started tapping away.
There were no dramatic outbursts, no bitter complaints.
My resignation letter was calm and totally by the book.
Dear Company Leadership,
I am Ruby Apple, and I am submitting my resignation as part of my personal career development plans.
During my six months here, I have learned a lot, and I am grateful for the support and opportunities the company has given me.
My last day of work will be [Date].
Before then, I will diligently complete all handover tasks to ensure a seamless transition.
I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience my departure may cause the company.
I wish the company even greater success and a bright future ahead.
Submitted by: Ruby Apple
Date: [Date]
After finishing, I gave it a thorough read from top to bottom.
I double-checked for any grammar errors or weird wording.
Then, I hit print.
In the corner of the office, the old printer let out a low hum and got to work.
I stood up and walked over to it.
As I walked past the HR office, I noticed Minerva was on the phone, sounding like she was giving an update to someone important.
Her tone carried a hint of self-congratulation, as if she was trying to show off her accomplishments.
"Don't worry, Mr. Brewer," she said. "I've already taken care of everything.
"The application form's been stamped, and she'll definitely see it before the day's over.
"Yes, you're always thinking ahead. We've pushed her enough. Time to sweeten the deal.
"Otherwise, the girl might hold a grudge, and that could affect our work on the NorthTech Project."
I kept walking to the printer.
There it was—the A4 sheet carrying my freedom, lying quietly in the output slot.
The ink was still fresh and warm.
I picked it up.
Carefully, as if it were a precious contract, I folded it once, then again.
Then I slipped it into my jacket pocket.
It rested against my chest, like a medal, and a sword ready to be unsheathed.
I went back to my workstation and got back to tackling the never-ending pile of reports and emails, as if nothing had happened.
But my mindset was completely different now.
I was no longer a prisoner awaiting my sentence.
I held the ultimate power over my fate. I was my own master now.
It was five o'clock in the afternoon.
The end of the workday was just around the corner.
The office was filled with a restless, weary vibe—everyone itching to get out.
Some folks were quietly packing up, hoping to be the first to clock out.
Others scrolled through shopping sites, making plans for their evening.
And a few whispered gossip about the new intern in the department.
I closed out all my work stuff on the computer.
Then I started clearing off my desk.
A half-read book.
A pothos plant on its last legs.
A cartoon mug.
These were the only things here that were really mine.
I put them into the cardboard box by my feet, one by one.
I moved slowly and carefully.
Oliver Potter, the guy at the desk next to mine, noticed what I was doing.
He peeked over, curious.
"Ruby, what are you up to? Cleaning house?" he asked.
I smiled.
"Yeah, just tidying up a bit," I replied.
"That pothos looks like it's on its last legs. Why keep it? Just toss it," he said.
"Maybe it's still got a fighting chance," I replied.
At that moment, the sales department door was suddenly thrown open.
Theo burst in like a whirlwind.
His face was lit up with an exaggerated, almost theatrical excitement.
He held a piece of paper high above his head.
It was like he was waving a victory flag.
"Everyone, stop what you're doing for a moment," he shouted, his voice booming through the office.
The whole office went dead silent.
Everyone's eyes were glued to him.
Theo was clearly loving all the attention.
He cleared his throat and strutted over to my desk, looking every bit the boss.
Everyone quickly moved aside to let him through.
Their eyes were full of curiosity, confusion, and a hint of barely concealed schadenfreude.
They probably thought I was about to get publicly executed for all those days I'd taken off lately.
Theo stopped right in front of my desk.
He glanced down at the cardboard box by my feet, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly.
But in a flash, he was back to his cheerful, confident self.
He fixed his gaze on me, his voice ringing out with the warmth and authority of a true leader.
"Ruby," he called out.
"You've only been here six months, but everyone's seen how much effort you've put in.
"Especially with the NorthTech Project—you really saved the day and cracked that tough nut for us. You deserve all the credit."
He launched into his long-winded speech.
Some of the old-timers in the office were already wearing their 'let's watch the show' faces.
A few of the newbies were listening with starstruck expressions.
Oliver nudged me with his elbow, his face full of envy.
"Ruby, the director's about to praise you in front of everyone. You're seriously awesome," he whispered.
I just watched Theo, saying nothing.
I watched as he launched into a speech about how much the company treasured its people and invested in newcomers.
It was as if those three months of suppression and neglect were merely a "misunderstanding," a trial meant to test me.
I felt like a spectator, completely detached from it all.
It was like watching an awkward, ridiculous solo performance.
Finally, Theo wrapped up his long-winded introduction.
He held up the piece of paper for everyone to see.
It was my probation-to-permanent conversion form.
The ugly coffee stain was still there, plain as day.
But at the bottom, there was a bold, sweeping signature and a bright red company seal.
"Ruby!" Theo's voice hit its peak.
He handed me the paper like it was a special favor, almost a gift from above.
"Great news!" he announced.
"After I fought hard for you and kept urging the company, your application to become a full-time employee has been officially approved.
"From today on, you're an official member of our sales team. Congratulations!"
He had that expectant smile on his face, clearly waiting for my reaction.
He was waiting for me to accept the paper, all teary-eyed and grateful.
He was waiting for me to say those rehearsed words of thanks he expected to hear.
The air in the office felt like it had frozen solid.
Everyone held their breath, watching me.
They were all waiting to see me act out the classic "overcoming adversity" office success story.
I didn't move.
I didn't even bother to look at the paper Theo was holding.
I met his eyes, calm and unflinching.
Time stretched endlessly in that moment.
All the sounds—colleagues breathing, keyboards tapping, traffic outside—just disappeared.
It felt like the world had shrunk to just me and Theo.
And his smile was slowly turning stiff.
"What's wrong?" There was a flicker of confusion and awkwardness in his smile.
"Too excited to speak?" he joked, trying to break the tension.
"Come on, take it. This is what you've been waiting for!" he urged, pushing the form even closer.
It was nearly brushing my nose.
I could smell the cheap ink and the stale scent of old paper.
I slowly shook my head, resolute.
Then, with everyone watching, I bent down and pulled open the top drawer of my desk.
The sound of the drawer sliding open cut through the silence, almost painfully sharp.
I took out the letter I'd prepared long ago, folded perfectly.
My movements were slow and deliberate.
It felt almost ceremonial.