A Life More Complete

---Chapter 41---

The next morning I opt out of going to work and since my travel has become impossible and my most important client has been obliterated, it couldn’t be better. I can’t deal with the fact that leaving my house will create controversy not to mention exposing my embarrassing act of vandalism. I don’t have anything to do but catch up on sleep, so that’s exactly what I do. I sleep in until eleven and then lounge around my house watching talk shows and eating non-breakfast related crap. In a way it feels as if the outside world doesn’t exist and I didn’t do a horrendous job of bringing a world of shame upon myself last night. Oh wait, yes I did.

An entire day has passed since our breakup and it still remains undisputed by Tyler. Hiding out in my house has brought with it no negative repercussions to my actions, but I know they are looming in the dark cloud that seems to be hanging over me. My mood fluctuates throughout the day, first I feel vindicated and self-assured for standing up for myself. I am done taking his bullshit, I tell myself. Then it turns to crying, but eventually leading back to being proud. I survived on my own for this long and I will continue to do it.

I pull myself together and haul into work the next day, evading the paparazzi that have now set up camp outside my house. The office is no better as they are staked outside of the building and in the parking garage. My head hung in shame, I make my way to the elevators refusing to speak with anyone. When I finally make it through reception my welcome is less than stellar. It borders somewhere along the lines of compassion and terror. The looks on their faces say it all. They’re either scared I’m going to lose my shit right there or that they need to console me.

Sitting in my office with the door closed doesn’t deter the twenty or so employees of Ellie Regan P.R. from visiting me with their words of encouragement or sympathy. These are people I speak to on rare occasions and know nothing about my life, yet they still feel the need to impart their great knowledge of breakups on me. The worst has to be when a lady from marketing asks me if I’ve seen the latest tabloid with a picture of Tyler and Trini on the cover in a loving embrace. My only answer was, “No.” I think she got the point.

When I look at the clock I realize I have only been at work for two hours and it feels like a lifetime. I can barely handle the comments when I return from the bathroom to find the tabloid on my desk with a note that says, “Sorry.” I lose it.

Flying into Ellie’s office as I begin my rant.

“I can’t do this!” I scream, knowing everyone in the office is waiting for a show and one to rival yesterday’s. “I quit! I can’t stay here and have my life displayed for public viewing.”

Ellie, in her calm manner, yet still demanding, says, “I don’t think you should quit.”

“I don’t care what you think!”

“Can you just hear me out?” I nod and she continues. “If you quit you’ll lose your health insurance and I can’t have that on my conscience. Understand what I’m getting at? You and the baby will have no health insurance. Imagine the cost of delivering a baby without insurance?” Again I nod, as I begin to settle down. “Now I understand that right now everything really sucks, I get it, I do, but quitting isn’t going to solve anything. I do think you need some time off. You have three weeks vacation. Why don’t you use that? If you haven’t had the baby by then, you can start your FMLA. That will give you twelve more weeks of insurance. You can pay it up front, since you won’t be getting paid. The cost will be the same as what is taken out of your check each month. After all of that, if you still want to quit I won’t stand in your way.” She smiles sharply and nods her head. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I reply back feeling calmer. “Thanks, Ellie. I’m sorry I’m a ranting lunatic.”

“It happens to the best of them,” she says smiling. “Now, get out of my office. I have work to do since my best employee just put in for three weeks worth of vacation.”

“Bye, Ellie.”

I head home and flop down on the couch checking my phone for the millionth time and still nothing from Tyler. I don’t know what comes over me but I begin to pack. I heave every piece of maternity clothes into a suitcase along with the entire contents of my bathroom. I toss it into the trunk of my car and in three days time I am in the one place that I never thought I would see again. My mother’s house.