Page 60 of Diverge

Her brows pull in as she stares at me, unsure of what to say. I never speak like this at work. It's always yes, please, and when.

“Pardon?” she asked in almost a whisper.

Turning to her, I repeat my words.

“I said... if you don’t like it, maybe you should write the email, Laura.” She places a hand on her chest like I’ve shot her.

“Where is this hostility coming from?” Her face is all scrunched up.

“I’m not being hostile... I’m standing up for myself.” Finally. Fiona grips her laptop in one arm, a coffee in the other as I watch her walk past our desks to her large corner office.

“Perhaps you could take up my hostility with Fiona... you know... since you like to basically live up her ass.” Locking my laptop, I grab my coffee mug and walk to the kitchen to refill it, adrenaline coursing through my veins. A sense of pride grows within me, watering a newly sprouting branch of courage. Filling my cup with coffee, I mentally prepare myself for my performance review with Fiona. Out of all days and times she could choose to set up a performance review, she chose five o'clock on a Friday afternoon. I walk back out to see Laura now sitting at her desk, pretending like she doesn’t see me, which is completely fine with me. Grabbing my laptop in one hand and my coffee in the other, I head over to Fiona’s office.

“Come in,” she says as she types away on her keyboard. Closing the door behind me, I take a seat in a chair in front of her desk. She turns to me with the fakest smile plastered on her face.

“So, how’s Billie? What’s been going on with you?” I want to throw up at her false pretence of giving a shit about her employees.

“Good, I’ve been trying to catch up on Gilly’s.” A project we’re currently working on for a retail business who sells fishing supplies.

“Mm, yes. Laura’s been telling me how she thinks you’re a little distracted with your life outside of work.” She purses her lips, and I feel actual fury awaken from its deep slumber within me.

Is she fucking serious?

I pause for a moment before I respond, biting my tongue.

“Do you think you could shift your focus back onto your responsibilities here? Because we all need to be team players and—”

“Fiona,” I cut her off before she finished that sentence and sends me into a hulk rage.

“My life outside of work does not concern you, nor does it concern anyone else in this office. Your focus as a manager should not be whether or not I can fulfill my responsibilities by shifting my focus back onto them, but rather what is actually going on in my life that is hindering my ability to meet my KPIs because that’s what a real manager would be worried about, the wellbeing of their employees. I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you because as an adult, I feel you need to hear this and reflect on it if you are to be a better manager. You need to stop and realise that the people who work here are indeed people. They have their own lives, their own families. Some work weekends just to get their never-ending tasks completed because you keep throwing them more work instead of hiring new people to save money.

You don’t make money like that, and you lose good people.”

Her face is as white as a ghost.

“I’m giving you my four weeks notice.” I say.

She raises her hands. “Whoa, whoa, let’s slow down a bit. Let’s not make any hasty decisions.”

I shake my head. “My mind is made up. I no longer want to work for this company.” I feel an immense sense of relief as I utter the words I have been waiting to say for years.

“B-but...” she stutters.

I gather my laptop and my mug and give her a smile.

“I’ll summarise notes for my clients before my notice is up. Have a good afternoon, Fiona,” I say before walking out of her office, feeling that sense of pride and courage continue to grow.

I’m finally taking my life into my own hands and controlling the outcome, just like I imagined for so long. Maybe I need to pinch myself in case this is a dream and all this is happening inside my head.

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