text: “I told you not to buy one!” “Sweetie, this is a good thing. We never have to work again.” “But I want to work! I don’t want to end up like her, you know that.” “This is insane. You’re the only person to ever complain about winning the lottery. Like, ever.” I virtually never argued with my husband. This was a very special case. For sure, he always acted like a bit of a gambler, overspending a little too much every time he went to the casino with his buddies; never enough for it to become problematic though. This time however, I specifically requested for him not to purchase a lottery ticket. The jackpot was five hundred and twenty-five million dollars, and somehow I had a hunch. Winning the lottery remained my worst nightmare throughout the years. My best friend Rebecca’s parents won the lottery when she was nineteen, then died a week later in a car accident. Their daughter inherited from the whole thing. It looked fun at first. She bought lavish beach-front houses, dropped out of college, and travelled around the world. Reality quickly caught up with her. After a string of toxic relationships with partners that preyed on her money like vultures, she fell into a deep depression. I did my best to help her weather the storm, to no avail. She took her life at the age of twenty-two. Her destructive path over these four years was traumatic to say the least. I promised myself I would build a financially stable life all by myself. My dreams of becoming a professional composer ended of inside boxes in the recesses of my mind. I took an office job in an advertising company and climbed the corporate ladder steadily. Just when I thought I had perfect control over every aspect of my destiny, James came into my life. He played the viola in my weekend string quartet. “Chloe, please listen to me for a minute,” he pleaded. “We just won five hundred and twenty-five million dollars. There’s no way around it.” “Dirty money like that ruins lives. I know, I witnessed it.” “I’m not saying you didn’t. What your friend did with her money was one thing. What we do with ours can be different. Think of what we could do. You could finally concentrate on composing! This ticket is our declaration of independence.” “I turned the page on that chapter already. We don’t need to win the lottery to be happy James, you made a mistake when you won that ticket. Let’s talk about it later.” I quickly hung up, furious, several minutes behind on my schedule because of his call. Sure enough, the minute I arrived at work, my manager chastised me. “You missed the morning brief,” he said. “I’m sorry Paul. My husband and I needed to sort out something.” “Trouble in paradise?” His disparaging comments about my private life made my blood boil on a daily basis. I knew he felt attracted to me, and the more I rebuked his advances, the more he insisted on making my job a living hell. “This isn’t a particularly appropriate question for work.” “You’re the one who brought up your husband. If you don’t want to talk personal, leave the personal at the door.” “Don’t even try, you--” “I’m your manager Chloe. Please behave in my office.” I breathed heavily, clenching my fists. “You’re right Paul. I’ll just go to my desk now.” *** The day went by too slowly for my taste. Meeting after meeting, I struggled to concentrate. There always seemed to be a symphony playing in the back of my mind. During the eleven o’clock pitch meeting, I found myself scribbling down a partition on a blank sheet of paper. Nothing serious. It was only an afterthought, a distant melody that lingered from these old dreams that were locked in boxes. The symphony grew louder as the hours passed. The soaring music obliterated Mike’s voice during the weekly planning meeting, and by the time I got to the client strategy meeting, my ears could not discern any sound but the crescendo of notes that followed me everywhere. The minute I came back to my desk, I started feverishly writing down the whole thing. No instruments were needed to play these notes. They were already fully formed in my head, and the ink flowed on the page just like blood flowed at an accelerated pace through my veins with every heartbeat. The clock in my office struck five o’clock. I was severely behind on work. Curbing my excitation, I resolved to do overtime to make up for the creative divergence. My musical endeavour had undoubtedly been inappropriate, if not unacceptable. I couldn’t let my work suffer from such frivolity. Yet, I could not stop wondering why the surge had been so powerful. The boxes were tightly locked. The dreams were safely put away. “Working late?” Naturally, Paul had to come and ruin whatever was left of my day. “I couldn’t concentrate today,” I replied. “Big headache.” “You did seem distracted. More than usual, that is.” He came closer - a predator approaching his prey. “You know,” he added, “if you keep being this distracted, I’ll have to file a report with human resources. It’s a case of decreased productivity.” He lost no time and finally crossed the line, after years of subtly hiding the beast within. His hand grabbed my thigh before I could say a word. “Unless you want to make the whole thing go away of course. I’m a flexible man.” I slapped him, hard enough for his whole body to sway towards the bookshelf behind him. “That’s enough Paul!” I yelled. “I’m not taking your disgusting behavior anymore. “Then you might as well pack up and leave,” he said, his face twisted into a dreadful grimace. “I’m the manager here.” “Perfect!” I screamed. “You know what? My husband and I won the lottery this morning! At first, I thought it was the most horrible thing to ever happen to me, but it’s not. You know why? Because you are the most horrible thing to ever happen to me. Rebecca would have been just fine if it wasn’t for men like you. Thankfully, I have an amazing husband, and we’re going to be just fine !” “Who’s Rebecca?” “None of your business.” “Well, good luck with that,” he said, like a snake spitting poison. “I guess you can just live off your husband’s money now.” “Not that there would be anything wrong with it, but if you need to know...” I shoved my composition in his face. “...I’m pretty sure I have a great career ahead of me. See you when I’m famous.” I hastily left the office without even bothering to gather my belongings. How good it felt! Finally, I was free. The dreams had been unlocked. There were so many possibilities ahead, so many roads to travel. I knew what the problem was now, and the problem wasn’t the money. I called James in a heartbeat. “Hello?” “Hey baby! About that ticket...” “Oh yes, you were right. I thought about it all day. We don’t need money to be happy, we have everything we need. I burned it.”