8
That afternoon, Tom and Max showed up at my office, carrying a cake the size of a small car tire and a brand–new robot.
The moment they saw me, they rushed over, their eyes brimming with anticipation as they presented the gifts.
“Lauren, we came to make up for your birthday,” Tom said, his voice unusually soft. “We know we messed up, and we’re really sorry. We promise we’ll keep our distance from Rachel from now on. Please, just give us a chance to make things right.”
I glanced at the two of them. It had only been a week since I’d left, but they already looked like they’d been through hell. Their clothes were wrinkled and stained, their hair unkempt, and their faces unshaven. They reeked of desperation and exhaustion, like men who had been completely defeated by life.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the cake.
They barely had time to smile before I waved over my coworkers.
“Hey, everyone! Come grab some cake!”
“Is it your birthday today, Lauren?” one of my coworkers asked as they gathered around.
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“It’s just a cake,” I replied with a shrug. “Why wait for a birthday to eat it?”
Ignoring the awkward expressions on Tom and Max’s faces, I cheerfully began slicing the cake for my coworkers.
At that moment, Mr. Lewis walked over and immediately noticed the outdated housekeeping robot Tom had brought.
“Tom,” he said with a chuckle, “why is your company still producing these old models? No offense, but it’s no wonder your sales are tanking. Honestly, I’m glad I left when I did. Hey, maybe you should consider jumping ship and joining us. Both you and Lauren are talented people, and I’m sure you’d thrive here.”
Tom’s face lit up with hope, but before he could respond, I quickly shoved a piece of cake into his hand and cut him off.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” I said with a polite smile. “Tom’s perfectly comfortable at his current job. He’s been doing things the same way for years, so I doubt he’d adapt well to a place like this. Besides, he still has… attachments back at his old company.”
The light in Tom’s eyes dimmed instantly. He forced a strained smile and nodded, clearly unsure of how to respond.
Just then, a small voice piped up.
“Wow! Cake! Can I have some?”
Danny came running over, his face lighting up at the sight of the dessert. I smiled and cut him a slice, patting his head affectionately as I handed it to him.
Max’s expression shifted immediately. His eyes darted to Danny, then back to me. His voice trembled as he pointed at the boy.
“Why is… why is he here?”
“Oh,” I said casually, “his grandma has to work during the day, so I’ve been looking after him. He’s been staying with me for a bit.”
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C
“Oh,” I said casually, “his grandma has to work during the day, so I’ve been looking after him. He’s been staying with me for a bit.”
Max’s eyes filled with tears. His voice cracked as he looked at me, his face full of hurt. “Mom, did you replace me? I’m your real son! Don’t you want me anymore?”
“Of course you’re my son,” I said matter–of–factly.
Max immediately perked up, hope blooming in his eyes. But before he could bask in that reassurance for long, I added, “But Danny’s just a kid, all alone here. Can’t you be a little more understanding? Stop throwing tantrums. I’m busy with work–I don’t have time to coddle you anymore.”
With that, I turned my attention back to Danny, leaving Max and Tom standing there, stunned and humiliated.
By the end of the day, they slunk away with their heads down, their attempt at reconciliation a complete failure.
I threw myself into my work with everything I had. Though I’d been out of the industry for years, my skills and creativity quickly earned me recognition. I rose through the ranks, building a career I was proud of.
Using my designs, we created a series of innovative toy robots, and I made it a personal mission to donate them to orphanages. Watching the kids laugh and play with the toys made every late night and moment of exhaustion worth it.
In time, I even began reconnecting with my old friends.
“You’ve changed so much, Lauren,” one of them said during a recent lunch. “You’re not that bitter, tired woman anymore. You’re glowing.”
Meanwhile, Tom and Max weren’t doing as well.
Tom started calling me constantly, desperate to win me back.
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11:43 Fri, Jan 31
41
“Lauren, I bought you this new perfume. It’s sandalwood–I know you love that scent. Do you like it?”
“Our anniversary is coming up. How about we go to that restaurant where we had our first date? Just the two of us. No Max to play third wheel.”
“I quit my job. I don’t see Rachel anymore. I’m even thinking about applying to your company. Would you cheer me on?”
Max, my once–silent teenager, became uncharacteristically chatty. He started telling me about everything–his test scores, what he ate for lunch at school, funny things his friends
said.
These were the things I used to dream of him sharing with me. Back then, I would’ve given anything for him to open up.
But now? I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Every time they called, I listened half–heartedly, responding with the same indifference
they used to show me.
It was ironic, really. The tables had completely turned. They were desperate for my attention, while I had long since stopped needing theirs.
