Seven Years, Then I Walked Away

Only I knew how much it hurt.

At least I'd finally decided to pull this thorn out.

I looked at him. "I'm not threatening you. And I'm not jealous."

"Then why?" His breathing had gone uneven. "If the wedding planning feels like too much, then we keep it simple. I don't care about any of that."

I shook my head, still wanting to say more.

The sound of running water in the bathroom cut off.

"Let's just leave it. The marriage is a long road ahead. Living it well is what matters more than anything."

He tossed the words out and hurried toward the bathroom.

A moment later, the hum of a hair dryer drifted out, along with easy laughter and chatter.

I stood where I was, and said it quietly, deep down.

Roderick, there is no road ahead for us.

I turned back to my room and slept straight through till morning.

When I woke, the two of them were getting ready to head out.

"I'm taking Bernice home to grab her laptop, then dropping her at work." Roderick paused at the entryway and looked back at me.

He hesitated, then, unusually, asked one more thing. "Want to come along? I'll drop you off."

He'd never once driven me anywhere before. Said it would look improper.

So rain or shine, I got myself to and from work on my own.

But once Bernice arrived, he got up early every day and went out of his way to drive her in, and no matter how late he finished at night, he took her home first.

"No need," I said, shaking my head. "There won't be any need anymore."

He blanked, wanting to ask something, but I'd already closed the bathroom door.

Back at the office, I printed out my resignation letter and handed it to Roderick.

He stared at it for a long moment, then asked, "Reason?"

"I'm tired."

His expression eased. "So when you said this morning I didn't need to drive you anymore, it was because you're quitting?"

"Fine by me." He picked up a pen and signed. "We're getting married soon anyway. From now on you can rest at home, and once the baby comes, just focus on that."

"Let's set your last day as the day before the wedding. I'll move fast on hiring a replacement."

I fixed my eyes on the pen in his hand.

A cartoon design, with an exaggerated rabbit printed on the barrel.

A little star dangled off the tip, swinging back and forth, giving off a childishness that had no place in a CEO's office.

I'd seen the same one on Bernice's desk.

Then it came back to me.

I'd once left a little pig cushion on his sofa, hoping to bring some life into the dull office.

He'd frowned. "This is an office, not your bedroom."

"If a client sees it, they'll just think we're not professional."

The cushion ended up shoved to the very bottom of a cabinet and never came out again.

Now he held this pen, his movements smooth and natural, like he'd used it plenty of times.

I took the resignation letter back without a word and turned to leave.

I'd just reached the door when I ran into Bernice coming in with a bag of bubble tea, her face lit up with delight.

"Roderick, you ordered bubble tea for me?"

He laughed under his breath. "Didn't you keep saying this morning you wanted something sweet?"

"I just said it offhand and you remembered. Roderick, you're so good to me." She smiled sweetly and pulled out a cup, holding it toward me. "Lottie, want to share one?"

"Sure." I reached out.

Ever since he'd frowned and pronounced bubble tea "sickly sweet, only kids like that stuff," I'd barely touched it.

Bernice's smile faltered. She didn't let go.

"What? Regretting it already?" I looked at her, the smile not quite a smile.

She lifted the corners of her mouth again and released it. "No. I just thought you didn't like sweet things."

I took it and had a sip. "Mm. It really is sweet."

A thing you once couldn't have, once you finally tasted it, turned out you didn't want it that much after all.

I flicked my hand, and the bubble tea went into the trash.

"You…" She stared at that cup, her eyes slowly going red.