Page 101 of Forgotten Romance

“I did. Thank you.” I only add the last part so I don’t sound ungrateful. It was a lot of money, and I won’t pretend like it didn’t help pad our savings, but it was also a lot of money I earned. With me continually putting my life on hold for this job, the least they can do is compensate me for it.

Eric walks in and takes the chair opposite mine. “We’ll always take care of you,” he says. “You’re a valued member of this company. Irreplaceable.”

There’s no way he can hear the ringing in my ears, but even without pointing out how truly bone-deep-pissed-off I am, he knows. Normally, I wouldn’t dream of saying anything. Normally, I bite my tongue and put the job first. Tell him the family is great, and I’m doing okay.

But I’m really, really not okay.

I’ve worked my ass off for my entire adult life, and for what? A divorce and heartbroken kids? Even the full bank account can’t fix my guilt over constantly leaving them in that position. And if I feel like this, how frustrated must Mack be, having to console our children by himself over something outside of his control?

I fucking get it.

The anger and resentment that he felt is building in me too. Not for him. For Eric. For this company that supposedly takes care of me.

Eric sighs. “I know you’re disappointed. I get it. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t backed into a corner.”

My computer finishes doing its thing, so I open my emails, preparing to deal with a tsunami hitting my inbox.

“Davey … come on, now.”

I give him my full attention. “Come on, what?”

“You’re going to give me the silent treatment?”

“You’re discussing a topic I want no part in. I’m here. I’m prepared to work. Now, unless our conversation has to do with this new account, I can only assume we’re wasting company resources and my own damn time.”

He spreads his hands. “What would you have had me do?”

“Personally? Tell the client that our office reopens on the ninth. Move forward on the account with the staff that we have available at the time. And let me have my remaining six damn weeks with my own damn family that I have goddamn earned after leaving them, constantly, for the last ten years.”

His face falls. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Clearly.” I eye him. “You’ve been a good boss. I understand the position you were in, and I also know that if I continue to advance here, I will be sitting where you are one day. I’ll have to face the same decision you did.” Certainty wraps around me. “And that just isn’t something I’m interested in dealing with.”

“What are you saying?”

Nerves are pumping through my veins, and I have to grip the side of my desk to stop my hands from shaking. “This is my two weeks’ notice.” My hushed words come as a surprise, even to me. For one wild moment, logistics don’t matter. Finances don’t matter. They will, the second I walk away from here and realize that I’ve fucked my whole family over, but Mack’s right. I’ve put them first. I’ve put myself through hell to make sure I provided for them. I’ve given them everything I thought they needed.

But they don’t want my money.

They want me.

So what the fuck am I still putting myself through this stress for?

“I know you’re upset, but don’t do something you’ll regret,” Eric says.

“I’ve already done too many things I regret. Trust me when I say this won’t even make my top five.”

“Davey.” He’s lost for words. “Is it money? Do you need more? A promotion?—”

“My family.”

“What?”

“I need my family.”

He’s visibly sweating. “And what about what they need? You’ve got your health insurance and their college to think about. Who’s going to pay your mortgage?”

All those questions twist my gut. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, trying not to get choked up. “But I’ve reached my limits. I’m stuck. I can’t keep going like this.”

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