The sound of the office clock ticked louder than usual, at least to Jack it did. The air inside the manager’s office was tight with tension, and Jack could feel every breath in his lungs stretching like a rubber band ready to snap. He stood across the desk from Mr. Gardner, his boss of three years, who looked like a kettle about to boil over. His forehead was furrowed, his lips pressed into a line so thin they nearly vanished. “You’re telling me this now?” Mr. Gardner’s voice was loud but cold, like ice breaking. “You’re bringing me excuses after everything that’s already gone wrong this week?” “I’m not making excuses,” Jack replied, trying hard to keep his voice calm even though it trembled slightly. “The report was supposed to be ready two days ago, and I did my part. I passed it to Amelia just like we discussed. She was in charge of compiling the data and submitting it. I was waiting for confirmation from her..”“Jack,” Mr. Gardner cut him off, standing up now. “We work in a team.

Jack continued down the empty street, but no matter how far he walked, he couldn’t escape the weight that pressed down on his chest. His legs moved forward, but his thoughts stayed stuck at the restaurant window, replaying the scene over and over again. Samantha sat there with that smug stranger, laughing like she hadn’t ruined him. Smiling like she didn’t know how much he had given up for her. His heart twisted in his chest, not just because of what he saw but because of what he knew. He wanted so badly to lie to himself. To pretend that if Samantha came crawling back, if she stood before him right now and told him she made a mistake, he would walk away without a second thought. He wanted to believe he was strong enough to say no. That he had finally reached the point of no return, that he wouldn’t let her break him again. But deep down, he knew the truth. If Samantha looked him in the eyes and told him she still loved him, even if it was a lie, he would believe her. He would ope

Jack arrived at the small apartment he had been renting, his steps slow and his heart heavy. The events of the day had left him mentally and emotionally drained. As he walked toward the entrance, his eyes landed on Samantha standing just outside the door. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, her weight shifted to one leg in the classic stance of someone ready for confrontation. Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw him, as if she had been waiting to unleash a storm of complaints. Jack’s once lifted mood fell immediately. There was no comfort in seeing her. Instead of love or concern, there was judgment in her gaze, like he had already failed before saying a word. He greeted her softly, trying to keep things neutral. Her eyes flickered for a split second with surprise, perhaps shocked that he hadn’t mentioned the restaurant or the man she had been with. But her shock quickly turned to amusement, and a smirk crept onto her face. She thought to herself, "Well, if he's not going

The sounds of morning filtered softly through the thin apartment walls, birds chirping in the distance, a car engine rumbling to life, and the quiet hum of the city slowly waking up. Jack slowly opened his eyes, allowing the morning light to pour across his battered face. A soft groan escaped his lips as he sat up, his back protesting from where he had collapsed the night before. As he looked around the small, cramped apartment, the silence stirred memories that hadn’t settled yet. Memories of Dean, or Don, or whatever that smug bastard’s name was. Jack didn’t care to remember anymore. "To hell with him," Jack said while waving like a drunk man in a bar. All that mattered was the pounding fists and the bruises those memories left behind. His eyes shifted to the splintered doorway, the broken pieces of wood still scattered across the floor like the remnants of his pride. The door had been torn through like it was made of cardboard, and for a moment, Jack considered how angry his landl

By the time Jack stepped outside, the evening sun was already dipping low behind the skyline, casting long shadows over the cracked sidewalk. He stood there for a moment, staring out into the street, unsure of what direction to take next. The plan forming in his head was simple, maybe even stupid, but it was the best he could come up with: visit his dad. That would be his next move. He wasn’t going to show up empty-handed and spill the truth, though. No, Jack had already decided on the version of reality he would present. He’d tell his father he’d been away working on a research project with a couple of friends, one focused on cracking the mystery behind lottery systems. It sounded clever, maybe even admirable. It gave the impression that he hadn’t just been drifting through the last few years like a leaf caught in the wind. It made him look like someone with a purpose, someone who finally hit gold because of brains and effort, not sheer blind luck. He thought briefly about heading ba