Page 103 of Two to Tango

I rear back in surprise at her response, blinking slowly as I repeat the words in my head. “I’m not going to run off and start competing all over the world,” I tell her. “I’m just dancing. I’m dancing socially and I’m having fun and,” I pause, “I met someone.” Where that stands right now, who knows. But it’s out there at least.

Her eyebrow lifts, but there’s that smile again. “Bueno,” she says. And then, “Te quiero muchísimo, Julieta.”

And somehow, it was like all I wanted to hear.

***

My nerves have mostlysubsided by the time I park my car, but as I walk into the office building, they ramp up again. If I don’t fight it hard enough, I could let the nerves win. I could change my mind and not do this and walk out just as disappointed in myself as I’ve been all week.

But I challenge myself to do the hard thing today. It might feel like an impulse, the kind of decision I’d learned to make within the past couple of months, the one that brought me so many good things, but this one has been secretly brewing for months.

“Good morning, Barbara. Can we talk?”

She looks up at me from her desk. “Sure.”

I close the door behind me, the click reverberating throughout these walls. I turn to face her, back straightened, steady, with a deep breath in.

“I am officially handing in my two weeks’ notice.”

When I leave her office, I hope to feel lighter, but I’m mostly just shaky. The guilt is still a companion, but I’m learning to give it less of my time.

I don’t have another job lined up, which is both terrifying and ridiculously unlike me, but who’s to say what’s unlike me any more anyway?

I walk past Larissa at her desk and knock on her door briefly. “Hey, can we talk in my office for a moment?”

She looks a bit concerned, but stands and follows. “Of course.”

Once she’s in my office, door closed, I break the news to her, too.

“I put in my notice.”

Her jaw goes slack as she stares.

“I just wanted you to hear it from me first.”

“Congratulations.” She sounds impressed.

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

“You’re getting out.” Now she sounds almost wistful.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I want out, too,” she states.

“Larissa.” I put my hand up. “I’m not trying to piss off Barbara any more than I already have.”

“What did she say?” she asks.

“Nothing, really. She was cordial about it. She thanked me for my time here. I’ll have an exit interview soon.”

“Alright.” She nods. And then walks out of my office, leaving me confused.

When she comes back some time later, she proudly declares, “I’m leaving, too.”

“Oh God, no.”

“Yes,” she says adamantly. “And I’ll go where you go, if that’s okay. I will work with you and do my best, Julie.”

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