The Cat at the Bottom of the Pyramid

Elena stared at the corporate pyramid chart on her monitor, the CEO's name at the top glowing with an arrogance that matched the man himself. Twenty floors below, the city was drowning in rain, the water beating against the glass like it wanted to confess something.

Her cat, Marx—named after Karl, though the creature had never worked a day in his life—curled around her ankles, purring with the smug satisfaction of someone who knew the house would collapse but didn't care. He was her only company since David left, claiming he needed to "find himself" at a yoga retreat in Sedona. Three months later, the only thing David had found was a twenty-six-year-old influencer named Crystal.

"Elena?" Richard stood in her doorway, his watery eyes darting around like he'd lost something. "The audit team needs those files by morning. The board is asking questions."

"The board always asks questions," she said, not bothering to look up. "Usually the wrong ones."

Richard's jaw tightened. "This isn't the time for your usual attitude. There's talk of restructuring. Positions are being evaluated."

She laughed, and the sound surprised her. "Evaluated by whom? The same people who approved embezzlement as 'strategic resource allocation' until the feds showed up last week?"

"That was cleared up," he snapped. "A misunderstanding of accounting principles."

"Right. Just like David's finding himself was a misunderstanding of marriage vows."

Richard retreated. Marx yawned, stretching toward the ceiling fan.

The next morning, Elena arrived to find security boxes being packed. The CEO had resigned—something about a sudden interest in spending more time with his family on his yacht in international waters. The pyramid had collapsed from the top down, as they always did.

She walked to her desk and poured the contents of her purse into the trash: the company badge, the fertility tracker app she'd downloaded to please David, the antidepressants she'd stopped taking last month.

Marx would need fresh food. She turned and walked out into the rain, letting it soak through her blouse, washing away eight years of compromises. Somewhere behind her, the corporate pyramid crumbled, but she didn't look back.