I look at my monitor, pretending to work. “Let them talk. I don’t care.”
Lori arches an eyebrow. “You sure?”
I hesitate, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want not to care. That’s something, right?”
She nods. “It’s a start.”
“I suppose it is.”
“Hey, listen,” she says, “I have to go. Talk later?”
“Sounds good.”
After she strolls away, I think about it all: the betrayal, the gossip, my family’s anger. It squeezes tighter with every breath.
And under it all, the memory of leaving Jack behind.
I try not to reimagine the look on his face as I drove away. Try not to remember how safe he made me feel or how closely he saw me—really saw me.
But the thoughts pour in, relentless.
I rub my temples.This is what being strong looks like,I tell myself.Coming back and facing my problems, handling my own mess.
Isn’t it?
By lunchtime, I reach my breaking point.
I snatch up my purse and bolt for the stairs. I need air. Lori catches up, moving in step beside me.
“Beth…”
I grip my bag, shaking my head. “I can’t do this, Lori. I can’t pretend everything’s normal.”
She studies me for a long beat. “Then stop.”
I blink. “Stop what?”
She shrugs, eyes fierce. “Stop pretending. Leave.”
I let out a bitter huff. “And go where?”
She gives me a crooked smile. “You and I both know exactly where.”
My heart stumbles in my chest. “Lori—”
She lifts a hand. “I’m not saying run away. I’m saying figure out what you want. Not your mom, not the office. You.”
Her words settle in. As I drive home that night, her question rattles around inside me: What do I want?
The answer arrives by the time I park.
No more waiting. No more letting fear keep me in a life that doesn’t fit.
***
The next morning, I get dressed with purpose: sleek navy slacks and a crisp white blouse, the outfit I reserve for client pitches. Every button and fold says one thing—I am not afraid.
I stand outside the accounting firm’s glass doors, heart thumping but spine straight. Sunlight bounces off the steel and glass. I don’t pause. Not this time.
