Jessica shook her head. "Don't be like that, Ricky. Claryboo didn't do anything to me."

The sickly sweet way she addressed me disgusted me.

I took a step back and said, "You heard her. I didn't do anything."

But Derrick's expression only darkened further. He pointed at me and rebuked, "Do you think I'd believe you? I just saw you trying to push her. You've always had it out for her.

"She hasn't shown up in front of you for so long, and now you're at it again. You even dare to lay hands on her in front of me? You've really been spoiled rotten!"

All I had done was try to free my hand from Jessica's grasp, and I received a scolding from Derrick for that. It was ridiculous. Even Jessica stood smugly behind him, looking at me triumphantly.

This wasn't the first time he had taken her side. I was reminded of the hand-sewn fabric charm I made him back then. That had been my first attempt at sewing something, and it had taken me a whole week of effort just to produce the charm.

I had wrapped it carefully and delivered it to Derrick during work hours, only to be met with scorn. "It's as ugly and tacky as you are. Take it away."

I had felt incredibly upset and secretly vowed to make a better one next time. But before I could take it back, Jessica snatched it away.

She looked so innocent and sweet, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at the charm. "I think it's adorable! May I have it, Clary?"

Derrick had agreed on my behalf right then and there.

But mere hours later, I saw Jessica casually toss it into the trash.

Furious, I had rushed over and slapped her across the face, right in front of Derrick's assistant, Luther Doyle.

Afterward, Jessica had covered her face, sobbing. "Clary grabbed the charm from me, threw it in the trash herself, and then hit me! I don't know why she hates me so much when I've never done anything to her!"

Even Luther, the only other witness, had backed her up, saying I had been vicious.

Utterly disappointed in me, Derrick had ordered me to get out and forbade me from ever setting foot in the company again.

Back then, all I could do was cry and beg him not to shut me out. But he hadn't yielded one bit, turning instead to order Luther to send me home immediately.

Looking back now, I wished I could slap my past self.

I remained calm. I saw no point in explaining anything to Derrick. Instead, I produced the divorce agreement from my bag.

"Since you're home, you might as well sign this."