The Definition of Fate

Chapter 49

i don't know what living a balanced life feels like
when i am sad
i don't cry i pour
when i am happy

i don't smile i glow

when i am angry

i don't yell i burn
the good thing about feeling in extremes is
when i love i give them wings
but perhaps that isn't
such a good thing cause

they always tend to leave

and you should see me
when my heart is broken

i don't grieve

i shatter.

- Rupi Kaur

I check my phone for the umpteenth time today. Still nothing. Even though it's only been a few days, I feel like I've been waiting for years. With the added pressure of my end-of-probation meeting with Mr. Fitzpatrick on Wednesday, I'm a jumble of nerves. My entire career is at a turning point.

I keep telling myself that I don't have to make a decision until I hear from Teresa, and since I don't have a decision to make, I don't have to tell anyone--Josh, Chloe, my parents. I can freak out all by myself. Of course, I'll have to make a decision about the literacy job before Wednesday unless Mr. Fitzpatrick fires me, in which case at least one decision will be made for me.

But as the minutes tick by and I struggle to focus on writing my article about the increase in foot fetishes among adolescent males, I realize more and more just how much I want Teresa's answer to be "yes." I want this job and I want to be with Josh, and I'm terrified those desires are going to conflict.

I'd choose Josh in a minute if we were married or if I had some alternative fulfilling career I could pursue, but what happens when I'm done working at the Post? How can I afford to stay in my apartment with Chloe and Hina? I don't have the savings to live without income for very long, and I'm pretty sure flipping burgers at McDonald's isn't the inspiring career I want. Even with Josh, can I live like that? Can I afford to make him my entire reality, the axis upon which my world spins?

As if on cue, my phone vibrates on my desk and I almost jump out of my seat. I grab the phone and power-walk to the stairwell so no one can hear our conversation. That's all I need--Halle telling Mr. Fitzpatrick that I'm leaving them for another job. I have to admit, that would actually feel pretty awesome.

"Hello? Miss Ortiz?"I pace on the landing in the unheated stairwell with my arms crossed.
"Good afternoon, Rachel," she says, her voice staticky. "I received your transcripts and resume last night. Thanks for passing those along to me."

"Of course," I answer breathlessly.

"I was very impressed by your achievements in college. I can tell you're a very hard worker."

My face turns red even though I'm alone. "Uh, thank you."

"I spoke with a few of my peers here at the NLC."
I catch my breath and feel my throat tighten with either panic or anticipation. This is the moment of truth; for a plan born only a few days ago, I can already sense my devastation if she turns me down.

"I think you could be a really good fit here."

My heart soars and plummets at once. This career has quickly become my dream, a job that's fulfilling and purposeful. Like Josh said, I'm happiest when I'm helping people. But how can I rejoice about a job that will take me away from him? How many more chances will we get? How are we supposed to stay together if we live apart?