He was right about that part, at least. They didn’t. She’d told no one at the company she was neurodivergent, though more observant co-workers may have figured it out. It wasn’t anyone’s business as long as she did her work well; that’s all the company cared about. Until today, she’d been a model employee.
She ran to her white Civic and jumped in, turning on her music. She let the sound block everything else while sheconcentrated on breathing and control. Two songs later, she was ready to go.
Before leaving her parking spot, Anna sent Adam a quick text to say she’d be home early and that she’d explain when she got there. She clutched the wheel, her hands still trembling. She still couldn’t believe she’d left her job, no matter how she disliked it. She hadn’t meant to get into marketing, but the idea had appealed to her creative side and paid the bills. What was she going to do? She had little savings because she’d used everything as a down payment on the townhouse last year.
Adam stayed on her mind as she drove. He’d convinced her that buying instead of renting was the way to go, and she’d bought the place so they could live together. He’d had nothing to contribute because of bad luck with his investments, but she hadn’t minded sharing her nest egg. After all, he was her boyfriend. They’d been together for four years now and were serious. Weren’t they? She frowned, a sudden realization dawning. Somehow, he always changed the subject when she brought up marriage. That didn’t seem committed.
Though Adam hated her job because it kept her so busy, she had the new and disquieting thought that he might be unhappy with her rash decision to quit. He liked her steady paychecks. As a community college anthropology professor, he made a pittance. Her lungs compressed, and she inhaled several times to regulate her breathing. She drove the rest of the way home, rehearsing. She’d say quitting was an opportunity—a gift of time to figure out what she wanted.
Anna’s throat ached from holding back sobs, and she couldn’t wait to shower and wash this horrid day down the drain. After dinner, she’d veg in front of the TV for an hour or two in her pj’s, have a bath with a favorite book, and go to bed. A relaxing evening for a change. Tomorrow she could comeup with a solution, update her resume, and do preliminary job searches online.
Her shoulders tightened again. She now had no income and bills to pay. She swallowed hard and forced herself to relax. The hard part of job hunting would be not taking the first offer that came along. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up in the same box.
She parked in her spot, taking another minute to regroup. She would explain to Adam so he understood Sandra was the villain—one who’d left her no option but to quit or accept that her boss could cheat her at will. Anna checked the time. It was just five o’clock. She hadn’t been home this early in years. She frowned at her phone. Her text to Adam remained unread. Well, no matter, she’d explain in person. He’d be surprised she was home, but hopefully, it would be a pleasant surprise.
She checked the flip-down mirror to determine if it looked like she’d been crying, wincing at her creased forehead. It had been like that several times in recent months. The line seemed permanently etched on her face, even if she wasn’t yet thirty. Not quite. She still had several months left in her twenties. Deep down, she must be worried about Adam’s reaction. She rubbed at her forehead, smoothing the wrinkle away.
Anna hurried up the stairs, unlocked the house, and rushed inside. Adam’s gray car sat outside, but the house echoed and seemed empty, with no blaring TV or music playing.
“I’m home.” She dropped her shoulder bag with her laptop on the bench by the door and kicked off her heels, tucking them into their proper place in the hall closet. She wiggled her toes and flexed them, loving the feeling of freeing her feet from her confining work shoes. Looking down, she wanted to be rid of the awful clothes that weren’t her either. She was tired of trying to fit into what she should be instead of accepting her differences.
What had she been doing the last six years at that company? She must have been sleepwalking, going through the motions of living. She’d worked so hard, but it was only now that she dared to admit she hated her job. Leaving would be a positive thing. She would make it the best decision of her life.
There’d been no response to her announcement of being home. She checked the kitchen, the living room, and the den, but he wasn’t in any of them. Maybe Adam had gone for a walk. She didn’t know what he did after he got home from work hours earlier than she did. Maybe he’d walked to the store to pick up dinner. She checked her phone. Her message was still unread. She frowned again and took a breath, smoothing her face once more.
Darting upstairs to change, she walked into their bedroom and stopped, aghast.
She covered her mouth at the sight of Adam’s bare ass as he dove off the bed toward the corner. It took a second to register what was happening and who the busty blonde in her bed was. He’d been having sex with Tiffany, his most recent grad student. Sex. In her bed. How cliche.
Anna stood frozen, her hand still over her mouth. There was no one to imitate, no one as a guide. This was out of her league. How dare he? She probably shouldn’t be shocked by another act of betrayal. This is what she got for playing it safe.
“Jesus, Anna,” Adam said, grabbing a pillow and covering himself with a cushion as he stood awkwardly beside the bed. Tiffany scrambled in the rumpled sheets, covering her nakedness. She wouldn’t meet Anna’s stare, but at least she had the grace to blush.
Anna’s cheeks burned, mirroring Tiffany’s response. The taste of bile filled her mouth. She’d been a fool. How had she never considered the possibility of Adam cheating?
“How long?” Her voice sounded high and wrong. Shriller than she’d have thought possible, further unnerving her. She couldn’t meet Adam’s eyes and stared a foot to his left.
“Anna, go downstairs. We’ll talk about this later.” Adam motioned to the door.
She flicked a look at his face, unable to speak. How dare he speak to her that way?
“You shouldn’t be here.” He pointed to the exit. “Get out.”
“No, I don’t think I will.” She fought her desire to give in to him. While she couldn’t stay in this house with him longer than it would take to pack, she would stand her ground. Even if the townhouse was hers, she was done. She would sell it. She’d never wanted this life in the first place.
Anna turned her back, stood on tiptoe, and grabbed her suitcase from the top shelf in the bedroom closet. Throwing it on the bench seat by the closet, she filled it with random handfuls of clothes from her drawers and from the stuff hanging. She had no idea what she packed. Some of this and some of that. All of her clean underwear, some of her sweaters. Jeans. She needed jeans. Shorts. She liked shorts. She wasn’t really thinking. Maybe her purple ball cap.
She glanced out the window at the slate-gray sky and made a note to grab a rain jacket from the hall closet on her way out. Mid-March in Seattle could be wet.
It was difficult to process, but she kept moving. She collected her passport from the drawer in her bedside table along with her other important documents, stuffing them into her purse.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going with your suitcase?” Adam attempted to block her exit by standing in the doorway to their bedroom. She glanced down pointedly at the throw pillow he still held and raised an eyebrow.
“Away from here. Away from you.” Her voice quavered despite attempts to remain calm.
“I’m going to go,” said Tiffany, finding her voice at last as she slid off the bed, still clutching Anna’s blue sheet to her chest. She bent and scanned the floor for her missing clothes.
“Don’t leave because of me,” said Anna. “Oh, I almost forgot my toothbrush and my conditioner.” She returned to the bathroom, collected her travel kit from under the sink, and added a few items.
