Page 125 of Chasing After You
It feels like I’m breathing in shards of glass. “I will.”
I grab my still packed suitcase, moving toward the door to carry it down the stairs quickly.
I’m not running away this time, but I am leaving to save us before we’re broken beyond repair.
~
It’s been two weeks since I left Henry’s house in the middle of the night to start staying at my family’s home again. The renovations from the fire were completed a couple of weeks ago, but there was never a reason to leave Henry’s until now.
I’ve spent one hundred percent of my time doing my best to avoid him. I’ve grown more irritable by the day, glaring at my coworkers if they even look at me the wrong way. Not even Miley is willing to push my buttons.
We’re not broken up, but we’re not together either. It’s a complicated game of chicken, with both of us waiting for the other to make a move.
I haven’t been able to avoid him completely, considering being his shadow is part of my job. Our exchanges are quick, but they feel like well-placed shots to the heart when Henry looks at me with bags under his eyes and no hint of his beautiful smile to be found.
It takes everything in me not to help him, but he made it clear he doesn’t want my help. This is something he wants to figure out on his own. Henry doesn’t seem to be doing a great job, but that’s not my problem at the moment. He wants space, so I’m giving it to him because I couldn’t possibly understand what he’s going through.
I told him I loved him, and he didn’t bat an eyelash. He didn’t even acknowledge I said it.
Instead, he said that he didn’t care, and I was allowed to do whatever I want.
I haven’t cried, though. It feels silly, but I’m proud of myself for that.
I do miss Henry, his smile, how I wake up with him holding me tightly to his chest—
I shake my head, pulling myself from my thoughts to resume responding to the email I received this morning from my old coach. She wants to know if I’m interested in a coaching position at the gym where I used to train, but am I ready to be a coach?
I look around the cubicles we all have, and I honestly don’t know if I would miss this job. I love being in the stadium and I love my work enough, but the environment in this department is toxic. It’s not healthy for me, so maybe a change of scenery would be good for me.
My fingers fly across the keyboard, typing quickly to hit print before I can change my mind.
Holding the document in my hands is freeing.
Dear Mrs. Arnold,
Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position, effective two weeks from now. Thank you for all the valuable skills I’ve learned from you during my time here.
Sincerely,
Mirabelle Walker
A slow smile grows on my face, and I know that I’m doing the right thing. This isn’t where I need to be right now.
My feet carry me swiftly to the glass paneling outside Stacey’s office, and she motions for me to come in. I move to lay the paper on the desk in front of her, but Stacey snatches it out of the air to read it before I can.
“You’re quitting?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“I am. I’ll work the next two weeks, but no longer than that.”
Stacey stares at the paper and then looks up at me, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times. I’ve rendered her speechless. I suppress my giggles, which are desperate to come out.
“Give me time to coordinate with the front office and Henry’s team to figure out if they wish to replace you. After that, you’re free to do as you please, Ms. Walker,” she says, which is exactly what I expected. I knew Stacey would be disappointed, but I respect the hell out of her.
I nod, agreeing. “I would like to make a request . . . if that’s okay?”
Again, I’ve surprised her. “You walk into my office to quit a job most people would kill for, and then you have the nerve to ask me for a favor?”
“It’s not a favor, it’s a request. You’re free to say no, but I don’t think you’ll want to,” I say, holding my ground as my stomach flutters with nerves. I hope she decides to listen to me, because this is something I need to do before I leave. I know I have the means if Stacey won’t print it, then I can take it to someone else, but I’d prefer to give her this parting gift as a thank you.
