Tether, 𝙚.𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙧

𝗖𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝙵𝚃𝙴𝙴𝗡

       "I have a flight to catch in two hours — you have five minutes before I leave." Mr. Ackerman informs you, looking down at the watch on his wrist. He's still sitting in his chair and there's just a few feet distance between you and him since you're standing across the table from him.

"Can you tell me the reason why you're firing me, sir?" You ask him, making your voice firm to show you're not fazed by the time limit he just set for you. "I know I was accepting of your decision yesterday night, but now that I'm in my right mind, I strongly believe that I'm essential to operations at the Henderson firm. I also believe that you caught me at a bad moment last night—"

"Why was it a bad moment?" He interrupts you. You falter.

"I was . . . I was dealing with something. With someone."

"Who?"

"It's . . . sir, it's a private matter . . ."

"Transparency is key between a boss and his employee." He tells you, making you frown.

"Are you telling me that you should know about the inner workings of my personal life, sir?—"

He leans forward in his seat abruptly and you raise an eyebrow. "When it affects the state of your mind and hinders your competence, then yes, I expect to know about it."

"Are you by chance still talking about me being unable to clean the stain on your shirt from yesterday night, sir?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." He confirms smoothly. "You had a task at hand, and failed to accomplish it."

"I wasn't being sarcastic when I told you to come with me to a convenience store so I could clean the stain up with hydrogen peroxide, you know?" You force yourself to keep your voice calm.

"That would've taken too much time. There was a way for you yesterday to clean the stain in that very room."

"I don't understand how."

Mr. Ackerman's answer to your question is snuck out of his pocket and held up for you to see. A thick white pen is held between his slender fingers and you quickly recognize that it's a bleaching pen.

"I always carry one with me on person." He explains. "It comes quite in handy when you're surrounded by a bunch of klutzes."

"I . . . I was supposed to ask you if you had a bleaching pen on you, sir? And use that to clean the stain?"

"Yes."

"Right." You nod at first. And then you start laughing. It sounds a bit hysterical and you can't control it. "You're right. That makes sense. That makes sense." You babble, trying to calm yourself down.

"Who was that man with you in the elevator yesterday night?"

Your eyes widen and you feel another laugh surface. "My ex husband." You reveal with a dry smile. "Yeah, that was my ex. And, you know something, Mr. Ackerman? I fucking hate him. You wanted to know about my personal life if it affects my time working at your company, right? That man single handedly ruined my day and I bet — I fucking bet that if it weren't for him? No, you know what? I can't blame other people for my fuck ups. I have to take accountability for my actions even if outside factors affect me. So, I guess getting fired is completely my fault — I still fucking hate my ex, though."

Mr. Ackerman patiently listens to your crazy rambling and when you finally seem to come to a stop, he raises an eyebrow at you. "Done? Good. Your five minutes are up." He gets up to leave and it's only then that you start feeling completely horrified at the grave you've just dug for yourself.