That morning, she hadn’t come into work intending to quit. It had just been another dreary commute leading into a dreary, frustrating day. Until she realized, as she glanced over the number of e-mails in her inbox—most of them from her immediate boss—that she’d had enough. The joy she used to experience when working had slowly seeped out of her until every little thing had become a massive chore. It had taken a while, but that day, it really was as easy to sum up as that: Kristin had had enough.
She hadn’t discussed her decision with Sheryl. She hadn’t had time. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. A quick decision that would change the rest of her life—or at the very least her immediate future. No more ten-hour days. No more ten-minute lunch breaks in front of her computer, always catching up. She was done. Kristin suspected Sheryl would be pleased. She found her phone—that other torture device aside from her desktop computer at work and her laptop at home—and dialed Sheryl’s number.
“Hey, babe,” Sheryl said. Kristin heard chatter around her. “How’s your day?” She sounded chirpy already.
“I quit,” Kristin said.
Silence, then after a beat, “You what?”
“I quit my job, babe. I’ve had enough.”
“Crikey.” Sheryl was silent again for a few long seconds. “About time, I guess.”
Kristin could barely make out what she said over the background noise. “Where are you?” It was the middle of the afternoon.
“The Flying Pig,” Sheryl said. “I just popped off campus for a little breather.”
Going by the noise, Kristin suspected it was a rowdy student pub. It wasn’t hard to guess what Sheryl was doing there in the middle of the day. A fleeting thought passed through Kristin’s mind: at least she didn’t lie about it. As if that was something she should be happy about, something to cling to.
“When will you be home?” Kristin asked.
“When will you be home?” Sheryl countered.
“Five,” Kristin said. “On the dot.”
“I look forward to it already, baby.”
Kristin hung up, scanned her office. As a place of hiding, it had served her well over the years. Now it was time to face the music.
“I had an extra drink in your honor,” Sheryl said, her words so thick they were barely pronounced. “This is great news.”
“I wish you’d waited for me to have that drink with.” Kristin tried to put her annoyance aside. It wasn’t Sheryl’s habit to come home in a state like this, at least not as far as Kristin knew. She wanted to celebrate, not nag her partner.
“We’ll have it now.” Sheryl was already ambling to the fridge. “I think there’s a bottle of champagne in there.”
“How about I make us some food instead?” Kristin crossed the distance to the kitchen twice as fast as Sheryl. “We’ll have that drink together another time.”
“But… but, you quit your job. You’re free, babe. We have to celebrate.”
“You’re drunk, Sheryl. It’s five in the afternoon and you’re absolutely hammered.” Kristin turned her face away from the nauseating smell of Sheryl’s breath.
Sheryl held up her hands, swaying. “I admit, I might be a little tipsy. That’s all.”
“Your definition of tipsy is very different from mine then.” Kristin took a step closer to the fridge and leaned against it.
“I’m sorry.” Sheryl seemed to deflate in front of Kristin’s eyes. Fatigue washed over her face. Her limbs went soft. “I’m sorry.” She sagged against a kitchen cabinet. “I truly am.”
Kristin walked over to Sheryl and took her in her arms, her heart breaking a little. There could truly only be one reason for Sheryl’s drinking. She must be suffering. And Kristin had been too busy to see it. Or no, she’d seen it, but she’d been too busy to do anything about it. To even talk to Sheryl about it. She’d figured Sheryl would correct herself along the way. She was a smart woman—she was a professor for crying out loud. But then, as they stood there in their kitchen, on the day Kristin quit her job and left her old life behind, she realized she should have done more. How else could a woman like Sheryl have strayed from her principles so much?
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Kristin whispered in Sheryl’s ear. “Everything will be all right.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sheryl woke with a start, like someone had pushed a button and flicked her brain wide awake. No sooner had she opened her eyes than her head began to throb in tune with her violent heartbeat. Slowly, she turned her head and looked at the alarm clock: 3:21. She turned her head to the other side. Kristin wasn’t there. Instant paranoia took over. Sheryl sat up straight, causing a dizzy spell to rip through her. She racked her brain. Did Kristin have to go away for work? Wait. Had she really said she’d quit her job last night?