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Chapter 2
These weren’t just two cars. They were more like symbols of us.
I’d been with Rosalie for ten years, yet Tyler, who had barely been here for ten months, somehow had more value than me.
I let out a dry laugh and slid into my old car.
Just then, my phone buzzed. A text popped up—a transfer from a friend.
Earlier, when Rosalie told me the company was in trouble and wanted to cut my salary, I was worried. So, I called up a friend and borrowed fifty thousand dollars. I figured I might need it to help her out.
I’d planned on giving it to her, but then I saw Tyler’s Instagram post. Rosalie had just bought him a brand-new car.
It hit me, but I didn’t feel anger or jealousy. I just felt... numb.
Maybe it was because I’d been through this before.
Tyler had only gotten into the company because Rosalie made an exception for him. His work was a joke. He couldn’t get the simplest things right. Yet Rosalie, who was usually so meticulous, kept covering for him.
From small things, like him serving plain water to clients but treating himself to fancy milk tea, to bigger mistakes like sending the wrong pricing list to our partners, costing us hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Every time I confronted him, Rosalie would jump to his defense.
“Tyler just graduated. It’s normal to make a few mistakes. Why are you being so hard on him?” she’d say.
Over time, Tyler grew more arrogant. And me? I was basically invisible.
I pulled out of the parking garage, still fuming, when I felt my car jerk forward.
I got out to check, only to see Rosalie and Tyler stepping out of the car behind me, holding hands like they were a couple of lovebirds.
Tyler was the first to speak. “Oh no... Felix? It’s you?”
He looked at the front of his car like it was the end of the world. “Why did you brake so suddenly? I didn’t have time to stop.”
He waved his hand dramatically. “Man, what a shame. Rosalie just bought me this new car.”
Rosalie glared at me, crossing her arms. “Did you do this on purpose? You knew Tyler was behind you, right? You braked just to get back at him?”
I almost laughed at her accusation.
This was the routine—twist everything around and make me the villain.
Before I could say anything, Tyler’s face shifted into that classic “I’m so innocent” act.
“Rosalie, don’t blame Felix,” he said, voice dripping with fake sincerity. “He’s mad at me because he just resigned. Of course, he’s angry.”
Then, in a move that was straight out of a bad soap opera, he balled up his fist and pretended to hit his forehead, as if he was punishing himself. But just before his fist made contact, he purposely loosened his grip.
Rosalie, completely buying into it, rushed over and gently rubbed his forehead like he was a wounded puppy. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”
She turned her angry eyes on me. Then, with a sudden burst of irritation, she poked my forehead.
“Felix, can’t you learn anything from Tyler? Take some responsibility!”
“Look at him. He’s humble, and you’ve been here for years, yet you’re still acting like a spoiled brat.”
The force of her poke made me stumble back a step. I caught my balance and had to bite back a laugh.