She wore the medical boot.
In the passenger seat was a folder.
Formal apology.
Reinstatement offer.
Twenty-two percent salary increase.
Director-level benefits.
Restricted company shares.
She had spent hours preparing it.
By the time Ethan opened the door, she already suspected it was the wrong approach.
He wore an old gray sweatshirt.
Behind him, the apartment smelled like coffee and tomato sauce.
“Victoria.”
“I should have called.”
“Yes.”
“I can leave.”
Ethan looked at the boot.
“Did you drive?”
“Yes.”
“That seems unwise.”
“My doctor said I could.”
“Doctors say lots of things.”
He stepped aside.
“Come in.”
Victoria entered.
She noticed Sarah’s photograph on the shelf.
Children.
Family.
History.
Ethan looked at the folder.
“What’s that?”
“My first bad idea.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“That’s honest.”
“I brought an offer.”
“Of course.”
Victoria sat.
Ethan remained standing.
She explained.
The manipulated reviews.
Marcus.
The buried incidents.
The inaccurate summary.
Her failure to read.
When she finished, she pushed the folder toward him.
“I want to reinstate you.”
Ethan did not touch it.
“Same job?”
“No.”
“Senior engineering role.”
“Raise.”
“Shares.”
“We can restore tenure.”
Ethan looked at the folder.
Then at her.
“Why?”
Victoria hesitated.
“Because firing you was wrong.”
“That’s not enough.”
She blinked.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want my job back because you feel guilty.”
“This isn’t only guilt.”
“What is it?”
“Correction.”
Ethan sat opposite her.
“That word sounds good.”
Victoria’s expression tightened.
“You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“I know you stopped for me.”
“That doesn’t mean you know me either.”
Fair.
Painfully fair.
Ethan continued.
“You signed the paper yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Today you’re offering shares.”
“Yes.”
“That’s fast.”
“I found evidence.”
“You also nearly froze in a ditch.”
Victoria looked down.
Ethan’s voice softened.
“I’m not saying you’re lying.”
“I’m saying I don’t know whether you’re correcting the system or correcting your feelings.”
The sentence struck deeper than anger.
Victoria closed the folder.
“What would make the difference?”
“Time.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
“No pressure?”
“No.”
“No board announcement?”
“No.”
“No people calling me?”
“I’ll make sure.”
Ethan stood.
Victoria followed.
At the door, she turned.
“I really am sorry.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t fix it.”
“No.”
“But it matters.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Yes.”
“That matters.”
She left.
The folder stayed with her.
Two days later, Victoria texted.