Page 112 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

The office was quieter than usual or maybe it was just my mood. It was subdued with the occasional phone ringing, the tap-tap-tap of someone on their keyboard. My corner of the office was the exception. It was empty now, except for the last of my things spread across the desk: framed photos, a few knickknacks, and a plant that had somehow survived my sporadic care. My boss stood nearby, arms crossed and a wistful expression on his face.

“You really don’t have to do this,” he said, his tone leaning toward a plea. “You could work remotely. We’d make it work. I don’t want to lose you.”

I smiled, placing the plant into a box with care. “You’ve been amazing, Andrew. All of you have. But it’s time for me to go back to the life I was meant to have. I’ve learned so much here. You’ve helped me grow and allowed me to really flourish. You gave me confidence and encouragement. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for that.”

One of my coworkers sighed dramatically from the doorway. “You’re going to leave us here to rot without you?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” I teased. “You’ll probably get more work done without me around to distract you.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because God forbid we have a little fun.”

We shared a laugh before reality crept back in. I turned to face the small group that had gathered. “You’ve all been like family to me. Thank you for the memories, for the support, and for everything in between. I’ll miss you.”

My boss stepped forward, pulling me into a hug that was very out of character for him. “We’ll miss you too, Merritt. But Dallas is lucky to have you back.”

“Send us postcards from your new life,” one coworker said.

I laughed. “I’m really not going to be all that far.”

With one last glance around the office, I grabbed my box and headed for the elevator. As the doors closed with a gentle ding, the depth of my decision fully settled in. I carried my box to my car for the last time. The box of personal items rested on the passenger seat, each object a tiny fragment of the life I was leaving behind. The car was going back to the dealership tomorrow. My life in Miami was officially coming to an end.

When I got home, the chaos was in full swing. Lucia and Dominique were in the living room, surrounded by half-packed boxes. I heard their bickering before I even stepped through the door.

It had been two and a half weeks since Kannon’s accident. Things were moving fast. I felt like there was no time to lose. We had already wasted ten years. I quit my job, was ending the lease on my car early, and gave up my sweet apartment. Miami was not my life. Not anymore.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Dominique snapped, snatching a box flap out of Lucia’s hand. “You have to fold it like this, or it won’t stay closed.”

“Please,” Lucia shot back, glaring. “I’ve been packing longer than you. I know how to close a box.”

“You two are going to kill each other without me,” I said, stepping inside and setting my box down.

They both looked up, feigning innocence.

“We’ll be fine,” Lucia said sweetly before narrowing her eyes at Dominique. “But if blood is spilled, we’re moving to Dallas to be closer to you.”

“Why?” I asked with confusion.

“Because we’ll be on the run from the law.” Lucia shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. “You guys are ridiculous. You would be lost without each other.”

Dominique nodded in agreement. “Make sure you pick a place with at least one guest room.”

“Two,” Lucia said.

“Two?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

Dominique crossed her arms. “I’m not sharing with this bitch.”

Lucia smirked and taped up a box. “They’d rather put me up at their place and you in a hotel, anyway. Right, Merritt?”

I held up my hands, laughing. “I’m staying out of this one.”

“How was the final goodbye at work?” Lucia asked.

I sighed. “Hard, but I can’t wait for the future.”

They were quiet for a second before they jumped right back into their bickering. I grabbed a box and carried it to the kitchen to pack up dishes. I wanted to be out of the line of fire. Not that there was any heat behind their insults. It was just how they passed the time.