My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand until my knuckles went white, then purple.
"Valerie, you're ruthless. I must have been blind to ever trust you the way I did."
She rose from the chair, satisfaction written all over her face, and walked over to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a patronizing pat. "Well, that's just your bad luck. Who told you to be so good to me? Who told you to catch feelings?"
Morris, sensing blood in the water, dropped any pretense of respect.
"Nathaniel! From now on, I'm the one stepping on you." He threw his head back and laughed. "You have no idea how many years I've been waiting for this day."
"You know what? Every single minute, I've been dreaming about you losing everything and crawling to me on your knees like a dog, begging."
"Morris, I've never treated you badly. Not once. Why do you hate me this much?"
"Because every time we went back home, the whole village would sing your praises and spit on me. They laughed at me for not being as good as you. Called me useless. Said I'd spend my whole life as your lapdog." His voice cracked with years of bitterness. "Tell me, how could I not hate you?"