You Were Better When I Was Gone Chapter 06
Three months in, my project won the quarterly award.
When the Director announced it in front of the team, my colleagues clapped. Someone whistled.
I stood there, ears ringing, not from nerves, but from a kind of stunned disbelief that I was actually being seen.
Emma gave me a thumbs-up from her desk. “Sarah, dinner’s on you tonight.”
That night, I took a few team members out.
The conversation was easy. Nobody made me the punchline. Nobody imitated my accent or expressions.
Walking home, I scrolled to a post from my former office colleague, a screenshot of Sophie’s messages in the company group chat.
“How long do you guys think Sarah will last in London? I give her three months, tops, before she comes crying back.”
“She can’t even present in English fluently, an entire proposal in English? LMAO.”
“And she’s scared of being alone. Freshman year, she cried hugging her pillow on orientation night because she thought her roommate hated her.”
Below that, several laughing emojis, one “Sarah is kind of like that,” and a few people who just typed “…”
The colleague who sent the screenshot, the one who’d left me the Post-it note added her own caption: “Sophie’s such a drama queen at the office. Sarah, don’t let this get to you.”
I stared at it for a long time. My jaw tightened, then relaxed. I was angry but more than that, I felt a dull kind of release.
So she did this behind my back too. All these eight years, this is how she talked about me when I wasn’t there.
It was just that nobody had ever sent me a screenshot before. Or if they had, I would’ve made excuses for her. She just runs her mouth. She doesn’t mean any harm.
I was done making excuses for her.
My phone buzzed, Nathan. “Sarah, there’s a Chinese entrepreneurs’ networking event this weekend. Want to come?”
“What kind?”
“Mostly cross-border trade, relevant to your company. A few investors, too. Good connections to make.”
“Sure.”
I replied while also saving Sophie’s screenshot to my phone.
Not for revenge. As evidence to remind myself not to go soft again.
The event was at a private club in Canary Wharf.
Nathan introduced me to a few cross-border industry folks, and we clicked.
One investor was particularly interested in our company’s model and swapped contacts before leaving. “Your Asia-Pacific cases are impressive. Let’s set up a call next week?”
“Absolutely.”
Outside the club, Nathan smiled at me. “Ms. Sarah, you’re more natural at business talk than small talk now.”
“…Really?”
“Really. You used to be so quiet. Now you’re a different person.”
The wind blew off the Thames. March in London was still cold.
I pulled my scarf tighter. “Maybe because nobody’s holding me back anymore.”
He didn’t pry. Just handed me a hot coffee. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
That night, I opened my laptop to sort through the contacts I’d collected.
A message from Luke popped up, three in a row.
“Sarah, I have a business trip to London in early May.”
“Staying a week.”
“Can we meet?”
My thumb hovered over the screen.
Early May, about a month away.
I thought for a moment and replied with one word: “Busy.”
His reply came fast: “You can’t spare one meal?”
“Not sure.”
“I’ll reach out when I get there.”
I didn’t reply. As I closed my laptop, Emma poked her head out. “That high school classmate asking you out?”
“Hmm? He’s coming for work next month.”
“Not him.” Emma rolled her eyes. “The Luke one.”
“Oh.” I turned off the lamp. “He’s coming for work too.”
Emma paused for a beat. “Are you going to see him?”
I stared at the ceiling in the dark. “I don’t know.”
“Sarah, one thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“Everyone else is moving forward. Don’t look back.”
I smiled and turned over. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Sarah.”