Back then, I'd been leading the algorithm framework for a core project. Three straight months buried in the lab, sleeping four or five hours a night. Writing code until two or three in the morning was routine. When exhaustion hit, I'd crash on a cot for a few hours and get right back to it at dawn.
The day the system finally ran clean, the whole team exhaled.
Marvin Lawrence slapped the table during a group meeting and declared that this young man was going places.
I was twenty-one that year, my head full of nothing but architecture design and model optimization, convinced the future held infinite possibilities.
Then I met Felicity.
I spoke slowly. "The road I took was my own choice."
"I know." Solomon raised his glass. "But I think you chose wrong."
"You gave up everything for love. And what did it get you? You think I haven't heard what your life's been like with the Hensons?"
"Marrying in, doing their grunt work, getting looked down on by every last one of them. What's the point?"
I didn't answer.
He took a sip, eyeing me through half-closed lids. "Joseph, let me ask you something. If you had the chance, would you be willing to come back to the institute?"
4