The puncture report arrived: good news—benign. The bad news? The tumor was too large, and surgery was recommended. Life sometimes feels like leveling up in a game. I’d planned to schedule surgery after securing a new job. Sometimes, it's just coincidence.

Stepping out, I saw Alvin in the hospital corridor. He saw me too. I turned and quickly walked away, yet the encounter felt less painful than expected. From that day on, however, Alvin was different. He no longer approached me at home or in the building near my office, though his gaze, when it fell on me, held a sad and pained expression. I felt inexplicably unsettled.

Zayden, usually sarcastic, surprisingly asked if I wanted to reconcile. He even used the proverb, "A good horse doesn't eat grass already grazed," implying my past mistake predicted future missteps. My teammates echoed this sentiment, suggesting a man without boundaries was unacceptable. Annoyed, I retorted, "Zayden runs to us every day—he’s unreliable." Silence fell. Zayden’s eyes held a different light; one teammate shook their head at his return.

Chapter 11

Lately, those around me have acted strangely. I hadn't told anyone about the surgery; I'd arranged for a caregiver. Yet, upon waking, Zayden sat beside me. He'd come to see me, and once I could move freely, he brought my work. I felt the urge to knock some sense into him—a prime example of how exploitative bosses build their empires.