Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall.
The humiliation didn't stop there—it just kept getting worse.
Callan's protection gave Sable and everyone else a free pass to do whatever they wanted.
"Old crow" was becoming their open joke now.
Two new interns saw me coming and exchanged these knowing looks.
One of them spoke just loud enough for me to catch:
"Oh shit, here comes the old crow. Better run before she pecks us to death."
"Hey, did you get added to that group yet? It's hilarious."
"No, not yet! Send me the link!"
This happened every damn day.
Everything finally blew up during a project presentation.
My last presentation had totally flopped, leaving the CEO pretty unhappy with me.
This time, I'd spent weeks making sure everything was perfect.
But ten minutes before we started, Callan strolled in with Sable right behind him.
"Sable's been working on this project too. She's presenting today. You can jump in if needed."
I tried to push back:
"Callan, I've been leading this project from the beginning. I know every detail."
He actually snorted and gave me this look:
"Oh, you know it? Then remind me who screwed up the last presentation?"
He turned to Sable with this warm, encouraging smile:
"Sable, whenever you're ready."
Sable stepped right up and plugged her USB into the laptop like she owned the place.
Callan was nodding along to everything she said, looking so damn proud.
I just sat there watching this whole show, keeping my mouth shut.
Then she went to switch slides and accidentally clicked the wrong thing.
Her personal messaging app suddenly filled the entire projection screen.
At the very top was a group chat that made my stomach drop:
**Old Crow Daily Updates**
It was packed with sneaky photos of me and running commentary.
"Look at this—old crow's got her yoga pants and fancy coffee again. Must be nice living off someone else's money!"
"Right? Eight years of this freeloading. I would've kicked her to the curb by now."
I could see Sable's fake-innocent response: "Come on guys, that's not nice."
And right there underneath it, Callan had written: "Sable you should probably keep your distance from the old crow. Don't need her taking it out on you again."
I looked straight at Callan. He wasn't even trying to look sorry—if anything, he seemed entertained.
That's when something inside me just died. Eight years of believing in us, and I was nothing but their entertainment.
I didn't stick around for the meeting to end. Walked straight to HR and handed in my resignation.
As I was leaving with my box of stuff, I ran into Callan and Sable chatting and laughing in the hallway.
Callan watched me walk by but didn't say a single word.
I thought to myself: Goodbye, Callan. You're out of my world for good.
Callan's protection gave Sable and everyone else a free pass to do whatever they wanted.
"Old crow" was becoming their open joke now.
Two new interns saw me coming and exchanged these knowing looks.
One of them spoke just loud enough for me to catch:
"Oh shit, here comes the old crow. Better run before she pecks us to death."
"Hey, did you get added to that group yet? It's hilarious."
"No, not yet! Send me the link!"
This happened every damn day.
Everything finally blew up during a project presentation.
My last presentation had totally flopped, leaving the CEO pretty unhappy with me.
This time, I'd spent weeks making sure everything was perfect.
But ten minutes before we started, Callan strolled in with Sable right behind him.
"Sable's been working on this project too. She's presenting today. You can jump in if needed."
I tried to push back:
"Callan, I've been leading this project from the beginning. I know every detail."
He actually snorted and gave me this look:
"Oh, you know it? Then remind me who screwed up the last presentation?"
He turned to Sable with this warm, encouraging smile:
"Sable, whenever you're ready."
Sable stepped right up and plugged her USB into the laptop like she owned the place.
Callan was nodding along to everything she said, looking so damn proud.
I just sat there watching this whole show, keeping my mouth shut.
Then she went to switch slides and accidentally clicked the wrong thing.
Her personal messaging app suddenly filled the entire projection screen.
At the very top was a group chat that made my stomach drop:
**Old Crow Daily Updates**
It was packed with sneaky photos of me and running commentary.
"Look at this—old crow's got her yoga pants and fancy coffee again. Must be nice living off someone else's money!"
"Right? Eight years of this freeloading. I would've kicked her to the curb by now."
I could see Sable's fake-innocent response: "Come on guys, that's not nice."
And right there underneath it, Callan had written: "Sable you should probably keep your distance from the old crow. Don't need her taking it out on you again."
I looked straight at Callan. He wasn't even trying to look sorry—if anything, he seemed entertained.
That's when something inside me just died. Eight years of believing in us, and I was nothing but their entertainment.
I didn't stick around for the meeting to end. Walked straight to HR and handed in my resignation.
As I was leaving with my box of stuff, I ran into Callan and Sable chatting and laughing in the hallway.
Callan watched me walk by but didn't say a single word.
I thought to myself: Goodbye, Callan. You're out of my world for good.
End of Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall book page.