But within two days, Yohan began posting frequently on his social feed.
A photo showing his wrist bandaged in gauze with the caption:
[If my existence troubles you, I’m willing to vanish.]
A photo of him receiving an IV drip at the hospital, captioned: [Veronica, don’t worry about me. It’s my fault.]
A selfie in front of the university teaching building, captioned: [Youth that can’t be returned, people I can’t forget.]
I forwarded the screenshots directly to Veronica.
She dialed Yohan’s number and roared into the phone, “Yohan, I’m warning you to stay away from William or don’t blame me for not showing any mercy.”
A tearful voice came from the other end of the line, “But Veronica, I’ve loved you for eight years. I can’t live without you.”
Veronica hung up, her face darkening.
The next day, Yohan’s public warning was posted on the institute’s bulletin board. His eligibility for professional title evaluation was revoked and he was transferred away from the core project.
I knew this was Veronica’s doing. She wanted to use this method to demonstrate her resolve toward me.
But that very afternoon, Yohan burst into my office, weeping.