"Honey, don't get the wrong idea. Boys these days just like to mess around, you know?"
God, I didn't even care about her excuses anymore.
She must've noticed the look on my face because suddenly, she was trying to change the subject.
"Oh, by the way, I talked to the doctor. Your injury's not that serious. Just take two days to rest here, okay? Don't worry, I already took care of your leave."
She was practically running out the door as she said that, and her eyes kept darting to the container like she was scared even a drop of that damn chowder might spill.
I glanced at the clock on the wall—she was heading out a whole hour earlier than usual.
Didn't take a genius to figure out—Devon probably got wasted last night, and my girlfriend's in a rush to drive him to work.
Even if it meant crossing half the city, she didn't seem to mind one bit.
I just let out a bitter laugh, grabbed my phone, and limped my way to take a cab to the company.
I'd be leaving soon anyway, and there was still some work to wrap up. Besides my resignation letter, there's this programming system I'd been working on for ages that is sitting on my company computer.