Chapter 66 Resignation
A few days later, Emma finally got some of her mojo back and decided to head back to work. The second she stepped into the office, she could feel the weird vibes—everyone was staring at her like she had two heads, whispering behind her back.
A usually chill colleague cautiously asked, "You good?"
Emma knew they weren't really worried about her; they just wanted the juicy details.
"I heard she clocked Anna in the hospital. Is that for real?" one nosy coworker whispered, eyes wide with curiosity and a bit of fear.
"Yeah, I heard she messed up Anna's face pretty bad. Total psycho!" another one added, voice shaking a little.
Emma made her way to her desk. The scars on her face were still there, a constant reminder of the crap she'd been through.
But then Lisa, bless her heart, spoke up for Emma, "Those videos online are total BS. Emma's face isn't like this 'cause she pissed off Anna, right?"
Emma took a deep breath, deciding it was time to stop hiding. She turned to face her gawking colleagues.
"Yeah, I hit Anna," she said, loud and clear, no hesitation. "If I could, I would've done worse."
Her coworkers exchanged shocked looks, backing away like she had the plague.
"You're seriously twisted!" a few female colleagues sneered.
"Anna's so unlucky to have to deal with a nutjob like you."
"Yeah, you stole Anna's boyfriend and now you're still causing drama, even saying you wanna kill her. You're nuts!"
Each word was like a dagger to Emma's heart. But she was tougher now, and she could brush off the rumors.
She listened for a bit, realizing it was the same old gossip, then stood up, and went to the CEO's office.
When Michael saw the bruises on her face, his expression turned serious, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and shock.
"Emma, what happened to you?" he asked, genuinely concerned, his brows furrowed.
"It's just some minor injuries," Emma said casually, though she felt a warmth in her heart. She didn't want him to worry, but the scars told their own story.
"These aren't minor injuries," Michael said firmly. "If you need anything, I'm here for you."
"Thanks, Mr. Russell, but that's not necessary. I came here for something else. There've been some nasty comments about me online, and you must've seen them too. I don't want to drag the whole department down, so I'm resigning." Emma finished and turned to leave.
She was scared that if she stayed any longer, she wouldn't be able to go through with it.
"Emma," Michael called out, "I believe in you, so you don't need to resign."
Emma paused, her eyes getting a bit misty. For years, she'd dreamed of hearing someone say that. But it turned out to be Michael.
"This Friday night is the company's annual party. You're coming with me," Michael said with a gentle smile, not giving a damn about Emma's scandal and scars.
Emma's face still hurt. With her messed-up face and bad rep, how could she stand next to someone like Michael?
Emma shook her head; she didn't want to get tangled up with Michael anymore.
After work, Emma wrapped her face up tight with a scarf and headed home.
As soon as she got back, she saw a familiar car parked at the entrance.
Her feet felt like they were made of lead, and she couldn't move. Her heartbeat went all over the place.
The car window rolled down, revealing George's ridiculously handsome face. Terrified, Emma ducked behind a pillar, her face going pale.
"Why's he here?" Emma's heart pounded with unease, scared to face him head-on. She decided to wait it out, silently praying he'd leave soon.
Time dragged on. As night deepened, Emma's anxiety and fear grew. She kept peeking at the entrance; George was still there, like he was waiting for something.
Emma bit her lip hard, her hands shaking like crazy.
Did George really want to push her to the edge? She just wanted to live her life; was that too much to ask?
Finally, around midnight, George's phone rang. He answered it and then drove off. Emma felt a wave of relief wash over her and quickly started moving her stiff limbs. She rushed back to her place, hastily gathering her stuff, determined to move out that very night.
She knew she had to get away from this place, far from George's shadow. She quickly packed her clothes and important things into a bag.
In the darkness, Emma quietly left the apartment. 'George, I don't want to love you anymore. Please let me go,' she thought.
As the year-end approached, lots of companies were throwing their annual parties. Even though Michael insisted Emma be his date for the party, she ultimately said no.
After the dinner, Emma hit up a bar with her department colleagues.
Her colleagues sat in groups, drinking, playing dice games, but Emma was alone, not feeling lonely at all. Given her trashed reputation, it was already a miracle her colleagues were willing to be in the same room with her. What more could she ask for?
Emma felt out of place in this world. She finished her drink and was about to hit the restroom before heading home.
But out of nowhere, she ran into George at this swanky bar. Emma panicked, turning around and bolting.
Even though George had his back to her, he felt a weird sense of loss, like something had slipped through his fingers. He moved instinctively, following her.
Emma ran back to the private room, her heart still racing.
She'd only stepped out for a bit, but when she got back, most of her colleagues were already pretty wasted. Some were sprawled out on the sofas, reeking of booze, while others, still somewhat sober, kept chugging drinks.
But whether they were sitting or lying down, no one was singing or paying attention to Emma.
Emma breathed a sigh of relief, slowly walking to her seat. Just as she sat down, a love song started playing on the sound system. It was a song she really liked. As the lyrics lit up on the screen, Emma's eyes started to well up.
As George reached a certain private room, he suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from inside.
He'd never heard Emma sing before, barely even paid attention to her talking, but he knew it was Emma singing inside.
In the dark private room, Emma sat alone on a chair. She looked incredibly thin, and her simple short haircut did nothing to hide her worn-out appearance.
Despite this, her profile was still beautiful. In the dim light, he saw tears falling from her eyes.
With heart-wrenching lyrics, George felt like his heart had been stabbed.
He stood outside the door, listening to Emma sing, watching her continuous tears. His heart felt like it was being drowned by invisible seawater, making it hard to breathe.
Emma was almost drowned by the years of pain, tears streaming down her face without her realizing it.
After finishing the song, Emma quietly left, heading back to her new place. As she took out her keys, the hallway's motion-sensor light suddenly flicked on, and a nightmarish voice sounded beside her.
"Emma, who said you could run away from me?"
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