Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. I pushed the mug away, the ceramic rim cold against my fingers. Liam, that overconfident kid who barely knew how to use Excel, was getting a bigger salary than me. I saw the email – the salary adjustments – in my boss's open inbox when I went to refill the printer paper. He’d probably negotiated better, leveraging his “marketable skills.” What about loyalty? What about dedication?

The copy machine sputtered, spewing out a useless document. I grabbed the paper and crumpled it into a ball. I wouldn’t clean up the mess. I wouldn’t do the extra work. I'd sit here and wait. The clock ticked, each second a tiny hammer blow against my resolve. He could have the fancy office, the bigger paycheck. I’d be the one who stayed, the one who knew the truth of what made this business work.