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This is me coming to claim my woman.
Or at least try.
If she really is determined to let me go, I won’t stop her.
But she’ll have to tell me to my face.
Unfortunately, when I head into the accounting office area and make my way to her cubicle, she’s not there.
“Where’s Willow?” I muse out loud.
Hector pops his head over the top of the cubicle wall that they share and says, “She’s gone.”
“Gone?” My heart starts racing, and a sense of dread comes over me. “What do you mean by that?”
I’m fearful he’s going to say she quit her job and left town, but to my relief, he just tells me, “She left early today.”
“Oh, okay.” I blow out a breath. “So everything’s all right, then?”
Cocking his head, he says, “I don’t know about that.”
I cross my arms over my chest and grumble, “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Hold on.” Hector holds up one finger. “Let me come over to her cubicle. Then I can explain.”
When he steps into Willow’s workspace, I ask, “Okay, what’s going on, Hector?”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to give it to you straight, man. Your woman is moving on. And if you want to stop her, you better quit pissing around and go fucking fix this mess.”
Okay, so Hector clearly knows what happened. I’m not sure how much detail Willow went into, but it seems more than enough. He looks like a guy in the know.
ButIsure as fuck don’t know anything.
In fact, I’m more confused than ever.
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “What do you mean, she’s moving on? And stop her from doing what? What am I missing here?”
Under his breath, he mutters, “Clearly a lot.”
“Hector…” I give him a don’t-mess-with-me look.
“Okay, okay.” He releases a breath, then tells me all about Willow’s interview in fucking New York City, and how she’s actually considering taking a job up there and leaving Atlanta.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I blurt out in disbelief. “How could so much happen in such a short period of time?”
Hector shrugs. “I don’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing—you’re wasting time right now. Her flight is at six, and she was adamant about getting to the airport at least two hours early.”
Dire as the circumstances are, I can’t help but laugh. “That is so Willow.” I shake my head. “Knowing her, she’ll leave the house even sooner.”
“Right? So go.”
He moves aside and shoos me away, and I get moving.
But before I leave, I stop, turn back to Hector, and say, “Thank you.”
Softly, he replies, “Good luck. You two are meant to be. But y’all need to figure that out on your own.”
He’s right, so I nod, and then I take off. I’m on my way to make Willow realize what I, and clearly Hector, already know—she can’t leave, as she and I are meant to be.
