79

LAYLA

My office was enormous. Vast enough to hold a meeting, I could pace around during a dilemma, yet it felt like the walls were crumbling—No their sizes didn’t change, it seemed like they were shifting. Closing in on me.

I covered the sides of my ears, shaking my head and pleading with the voices in my head to quiet down. I pray they listen. I cowered at the edge of my seat. My knee buckled to my face as the sobs came raking through my body. Each one caused a violent surge, jerking my entire being. They felt custom-made, tailored for this situation, fitting it perfectly.

He said goodbye. I wanted him to leave. The end of the era, as we agreed. Why does it hurt? Why can’t I fucking breathe in this button-up shirt? I take off the first two buttons and heave a sigh. Nothing.

I get off the floor and clutch the desk, a dizzy spell whipping my balance.

It’s great. Everything is fine and everyone is happy. I wanted it. I needed it. Why am I concerned?

Get a fucking grip. My nails threatene