Page 44 of Cherish my Heart

Still nothing.

His throat bobs, a dry swallow. “Sir—I… I didn’t mean—”

“That’s what I thought.” I take another step closer, arms crossed. “Cowards hide behind crowds. Men speak with respect.”

His eyes drop.

I let the silence stretch, let it settle into their bones. Then I turn, slowly, to face the room.

“I don’t care who you are—how qualified, how talented, or how indispensable you think you are. Misogyny has no seat in this office.” I glance at the whiteboard behind them. “This isn’t the nineties. We’re not here to stroke egos.”

They’re hanging on my every word now. No one dares blink.

“And she—” I pause, exhaling through my nose, forcing the rage back into something steadier. “She has earned more respect than you ever will.”

I see a few heads lower. Someone exhales quietly.

I’m not done.

“Do you think I don’t know what people say behind my back?” My voice dips lower, sharper now. “That I’m blinded because she’s close to me? That she gets away with things?”

A beat of dead silence.

“You assume she’s here because of me?” I glance toward Tushar again. “Then you don’t know me at all. Or her.”

He looks up, startled.

“She’s cleaned your messes. Helped you meet your deadlines. Stepped up when you were hungover from your precious intern parties.” I take one slow step closer. “You mocked her. Spoke about her like she was an accessory. And now you want to shrink from your words?”

A scoff escapes me. “You know how many weekends she’s spent here, sorting reports that weren’t even hers? How many nights has she left this building long after all of you did?”

He stares at the floor now.

I look to the HR rep in the corner. “Terminate his contract. Effective immediately.”

Her eyes widen, but she nods.

“And wipe his clearance. He’s to leave in the next thirty minutes.”

A few gasps ripple. Tushar looks up in shock now, mouth half open, like he didn’t see this coming. Idiot.

I take a breath. Let the final words come out slow and deliberate.

“If your ego can’t handle a no, the problem isn’t her. It’s you. And I don’t keep problems in my company.”

I start walking out, hand already on the door, but pause at the threshold. I turn just slightly.

“She didn’t need me to fight for her,” I say, voice low. “But I needed to say it anyway.”

Then I leave.

And as the door clicks shut behind me, I don’t feel relief. Or pride. I feel… quiet. Like something in me just exhaled. Like this rage that’s been pacing inside me for the last twenty-four hours has finally sat down.

Because she wasn’t there. Because she took a leave. Because her nose was red and her eyes were too sparkly last night, and I knew something had happened.

And now, I’ve said what needed to be said.

Let them talk. Let the gossip swirl.