I looked at his hand.
Then I looked into his eyes.
For eight years, I had wanted this man to be proud of me.
I had replayed our arguments countless times, wondering whether I could have explained myself differently.
I had believed that if I became successful enough, he might finally acknowledge me.
But standing there, watching his desperation, I understood something.
He wasn’t defending the truth.
He was defending the comfortable world that the truth threatened to destroy.
I removed his hand from my arm.
“No.”
He stared at me.
The single word seemed to shock him more than anything Mercer had said.
Vanessa lunged forward.
“I am a Regional Vice President! I have performance bonuses! I have vendor contracts! I have board relationships! You have no grounds to terminate me! I will sue you for slander! You’ll regret embarrassing me like this!”
Mercer did not react to her shouting.
