I didn't finish listening.
It was as if a jet of ice water had fallen on me.
Tanya.
That same Tanya, his accounting partner: silent, discreet, the one who always smiled shyly when she went to corporate events.
I backed away from the door as if I had been beaten. My whole body was shaking. I felt like if I stayed there one more minute, I'd just collapse on the floor.
I entered the room, closed the door, slowly leaned my back on it, and slid down to the floor. I felt a tightness in my chest so strong that it seemed as if I was short of breath. I sat with my face buried in my knees, hearing only my agitated and ragged breathing.
This is what they said.
Here's what they thought.
This is who I am to them.
A nuisance. A mistake. A temporary misunderstanding that "can still be fixed".
And at that moment, I only realized one thing.
There was no turning back.
I sat on the floor, unaware of time and space. It seemed as if the world around me had ceased to exist, disintegrated into isolated sounds: the muffled voices of Anton and his mother coming from the living room; the ticking of the clock on the wall; my own trembling breathing.
There was only one thought in my head: I had to go. That's it. Immediately.
⏬ Continued on the next page ⏬
