Page 56 of Every Chance After

“Yes, sorry. The medications don’t play nice with my stomach.”

“You poor thing,” she coos, her voice like sandpaper.

I pull the engagement ring off my finger and set it on the table between us. She takes it, dropping it carelessly into her Louis Vuitton.

“Was there anything else?” I ask, even-toned.

Her fake sympathy flashes in a weak smile. “Under the circumstances, we think it’s best that you don’t return to Sunny’s.”

The air in my lungs solidifies into something hard and lifeless as cold reality strangles me. I barely get words out, but they come clipped and bitter. “I no longer meetexpectations.”

I’ve heard her say that repeatedly to unsatisfactory employees, always with the same coldness. Cora was never one for second chances and almost enjoyed what she called “getting rid of dead weight.”

She bypasses my accusation by tugging an envelope out of her bag and sliding it onto the coffee table.

“What’s this?” I ask, not touching it.

“Severance,” she answers dryly.

My brain skips to what that means, fumbling a bit. As the store’s human resources department, I knowseveranceisn’t in our vocabulary. People are let go, move on, or get fired, of course, but we’ve never offered anything to facilitate their exit. It’s a grocery store, not a Fortune 500 company.

“You’re firing me?” I choke out, trying my best to hide my shock behind my stoic barriers.

“We’re overdue for restructuring with the new store about to open. You understand. We’re dissolving your position with a generous thank you for your time with us.”

She nods to the envelope again, practically ordering me to look inside. I don’t.

“So, you’re firing me but calling it a layoff for the optics,” I summarize, swallowing my baseball-sized anger, nearly choking.

Her snide grin makes my skin crawl.

“I won’t accept it.”

“Oh, yes, you will.” She leans forward with a chilling smile. “You’ll cash that check and tell anyone who asks that, as much as it breaks your heart to leave Sunny’s, you’re ready for a new start, preferably in a new town.”

“So, now I’m moving, too?”

She shrugs. “I can’tmakeyou, of course, but there’s enough money for such a change, and I highly recommend it.”

“I’m not moving. This is my home.”

Her shoulders droop in a sigh. “I thought you might say something like that. You’re still family, and we want to make this easy on you.”

I cringe at the word.Family.She reaches into her bag again and sets a business card on the table.

“Wes’s brother, Liam, is looking for an office manager.”

“At the funeral home?” I gape.

“He’s already agreed to take you on. It’s the best you’ll get around here, especially without a degree.”

Take me on? Like a project? Like an orphan?

“I realize that nothing’s gone as planned, Marnie. I regret that. I also know that you could sully the Sullivan name around here with stories about unfairness regarding your…conditionas a result of the accident if you wanted?—”

“My condition?” I sputter, scoffing. “My onlyconditionis this blatant discrimination. You can’t do this. I love Sunny’s.”

“I’m doing you a favor, Marnie. The accident wasn’t Ashe’s fault. Or mine. But it’s unfair to all of us to be constantly reminded of what could have been. Don’t you think?”

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