The days following my resignation, sort of moulded into one another.
Each day filled with the same thing; Ethan ignoring me, not even wanting to share the samepatch of carpet as me, even lunch times were isolated, him with his group, me with mine.
It was only a couple of weeks before Christmas and the strong smell of Satsuma’s wafted around the office.
On a horribly packed train one morning, I felt an awful sickness come over me, one minute I was shaking with the cold, and the next overcome with an intense heat causing me to fan myself – it was positively embarrassing.
I wasn’t entirely surprised- it was always the same thing with me. My whole life I laughed off disappointments, shrugged off any emotionally crippling heartbreaks, distracted myself with- intense (almost abnormal) ambition and busied myself with yet another get rich quick scheme. But as the good ole self - help books have been preaching for years – what doesn’t come out through tears, seeps out elsewhere and mine was usually through minor illness.
My saliva went down like fire balls and I wasn’t just being treated like Casper the not so friendly ghost but I had also turned terribly pale just like him.
I knew I couldn’t take another whiff of oranges or the microwaveable soup people seemed to be donning so I quickly typed a message to Rachel letting her know I couldn’t stay another minute and I was off to the Doctors. Why now? I thought. I only had three more working days left at Trask and there I was going home – could they –or more to the point could he hate me anymore right now?
The doctor informed me that I had a mild case of tonsillitis and advised that I rest for a few days at least, I didn’t listen to him of course, and after a full days rest and much to my Mom’s protestation I decided to go back into the office.
Everyone was very much in the spirit of Christmas, they’d even put some light decorations up around the office – there was a small dimly lit tree at reception and boxes of celebration chocolates planted at each corner of the office. It made me.. sad. Sad that I was going to be leaving all this behind, that I was going at such a fun time – not to mention the fact Ethan had not said a word or even looked in my direction for days.
In he walked dressed, sensibly dressed for winter, in a long grey coat, toffee brown shoes and black trousers. It had been a day or so since I’d last seen him and his hair looked shorter, different. Of course, he didn’t look my way not once, oh apart from when someone dropped a stapler on the floor but that was just an accidental stare – a reflex if you must.
His mood appeared a lot calmer too, no longer walking around like a petulant child - the vibe was more accepting, as if anger had turned into disappointment – which of course is worse.
He was fidgety - very fidgety. And this made me uneasy.
‘That’s it!’ he said, getting up from his chair.
‘Have a good time Ethan.’ shouted one of his colleagues.
Wrapping a scarf around his neck, he picked up his wallet from the table. ‘I sure will. See you soon.’
I watched him depart with the familiar knot twisting tighter into my stomach, the next day would be my last, and I had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be there say goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
New York Girl (formerly known as Maple Street)
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