The woman's voice was like ice. "This is the company, not your private garden where you can throw tantrums, Julius."
"It's just a missed phone call? Tell me what's the big deal, I'm all ears." The usually aloof and composed woman's eyes reddened with anger.
Even the year she took a bullet for me, I had never seen her so emotionally expressive.
Behind her, the door was open and the room full of executives were silent, their expressions revealing a tacit understanding.
From now on, I, the husband of Gabriela Petersen who had barely shown his face, would likely become the laughingstock of their conversations.
Thinking this, I calmly took the examination form from the table.
Seeing my action, Gabriela frowned. “What’s that?”
“Nothing, just a piece of scrap paper.”
Gabriela clearly wanted to say something more, but my phone suddenly vibrated.
The word “Mom” on the screen silenced her.
My mother’s voice was filled with undisguised joy, “Julius, have Gabriela stop all her work. I’ll personally oversee the project in Bridges.”
“You’re feeling better now; the most important thing is to go on a two-day trip to rekindle your relationship. I’ll fly back in a couple of days…”