Page 92 of Promises We Meant to Keep

“So how are you going to do this?” Abagail asked, her voice softening back into the compassionate friend that Elia had longed to have with her tonight.

Elia did need to figure that one out. Sipping her wine, she crossed her legs and sank into the couch. It was going to be a long night. Even if she planned everything out, she wasn’t going to be able to sleep. She was going to spend hours writing up her resignation and editing it and then staring at it while she pretended she wasn’t going to hand it in hours from when she finished scribbling her name across it in black ink.

“Tomorrow,” Elia said firmly. There was no other way. She couldn’t wait. It had to be now or never. And if she left, them Kamryn could stay. She could still run the Speech team and keep the kids learning and debating exactly as they should. Elia picked at invisible lint on her slacks. “I’ll do it tomorrow after the staff meeting.”

“Effective immediately?” Abagail asked.

Elia knew that should be the answer that she should give even if it wasn’t the one she wanted to hear. Nodding as her only answer, Elia kept her lips closed firmly.

“The end of the semester?”

“Effective immediately,” Abagail repeated. “You said you couldn’t make any decisions about this, that you would listen to everything I said.”

“I did.” Elia finished her glass of wine and set it on her knee, spinning the stem between her two fingers. Abagail was right, and Elia had been right. She couldn’t look at this objectively. Maybe if she got all of these negotiations and avoidant tactics out with Abagail then she wouldn’t do them tomorrow with Kamryn.

“So, effective immediately. Your contract says you have what…sixty days to move out?”

“Thirty,” Elia replied. She’d read it over that morning in preparation for this conversation. It still didn’t help her. She was going to lose in any scenario that she’d come up with so far.

“All right, so let’s start looking at apartments tomorrow.”

Elia frowned. She hated thinking about this. It was devastating to leave her home after this long. It wasn’t just the house, it was the people, it was Windermere. She didn’t want to leave, and the more she and Abagail talked about it, the more that sentiment solidified in the center of her chest. This was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done.

“I’m not sure I’ll be ready for that.”

“You have thirty days, Elia. You can’t hold off on this. You have to plan.”

“I can take a day or two.” Elia settled in, looking around her house at all of the things that she was going to have to pack up and put away. She’d been planning to help Maria and Miller move out next month, but now she’d be moving out first.

What a cruel twist of fate!

“What do I do if the board finds out about Kam and me?” Elia changed the topic. She needed the slight distraction.

“There’s nothing you can do.” Abagail shook her head. “That’s why I told you not to do it.”

Well, that hadn’t worked very well. Love was fickle in that sense, and Elia had ridden the lust train for as long as she felt she could. She and Kamryn needed to talk, seriously. Except that would also go against Abagail’s rules of never being alone in a room together again.

Maybe she could just drop off her resignation on Kamryn’s desk, leave and not come back. That might be the easiest way, but Kamryn would probably come after her then—in anger, in accusation, in frustration. Kamryn wouldn’t let Elia off easily. And that thought brought a smile to her lips.

“I can’t believe you,” Abagail said.

“I can’t either,” Elia agreed. “I never thought this would happen.”

Elia relaxed into her couch. “I’ll give her my resignation after the staff meeting tomorrow, and I promise you that I’ll leave the door open when she confronts me about it. Because she will confront me.”

Abagail clenched her jaw and shook her head. “You’re going to screw this up somehow. I know you are.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Elia gave her a wry smile. She took Abagail’s glass of wine. “More?”

“We’re going to need it, aren’t we?”

“Probably.” Elia made her way into the kitchen. “We should probably order some food to go with the wine. Especially if you’re going to help me write this letter of resignation that I’m turning in tomorrow.”

Abagail laughed. “Now I’m writing it for you?”

“Well, I imagine you’ve seen far more of them than I have.” Elia grinned at her. “Besides, isn’t that what best friends are for?”

“Best friends?” Abagail gave her a hard look. “Aren’t best friends supposed to know when their friend is in love?”

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