The day I was fired, I walked away from an $800 million contract. My boss ended up on his knees, begging me to come back.

On the other end of the line, all I could hear was the noise of the party.

I could make out the sound of glasses clinking. All that fake joy was built upon an entire year of my hard work. Ryan spoke again.

This time he wasn’t shouting. His tone was almost one of pleading. “Megan, don’t do this to me. I know you’re angry.”