Norman froze. “You turned it down, right?”
He became the one hurdle standing between me and my dream job.
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I laughed, soft and surprised. “Why would I do that?”
His expression hardened. “That’s not a woman’s job. And you won’t be able to handle it, anyway. You’re so stupid, you know that.”
The word hit harder than anything a male colleague had ever said to me. I was shocked.
“What did you just call me?”
“You heard me. You think wearing a white coat makes you special.”
Norman had always acted as if my work didn’t matter, but hearing him say it out loud hurt.
“You’re so stupid, you know that.”
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I felt the defiance rise to the surface before I even had the chance to acknowledge it.
“I accepted,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though my chest felt tight. “You know how hard I worked for this. I just have some of their documents to read via email, and then I’ll sign.”
Norman’s face flushed red. He slammed his fist on the table, rattling the plates.
“Don’t you understand a woman’s main job is to stay home and serve her husband? I allowed you to work, but don’t push it!”
Allowed. The word burned into my skin.
He slammed his fist on the table.
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Norman stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“Choose. Either me or your stupid job.”
I didn’t answer. I just glared at him, stunned.
We didn’t speak for hours. I sat on the couch, staring at the wall, replaying every conversation we’d ever had about money. Norman made about $40,000 a year working for his parents’ logistics company. He called it loyalty.
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