Only One Touch (Only One 4)

“I’ll send out an email to everyone, letting them know I’m going on a sabbatical, and we can go from there.” I look around the table. “Let’s send it out on Friday at five o’clock, so people have the weekend to ask us questions.”

“If this is what you want,” Francis says. “We’re not going to stop you.”

“Who knows.” I put up my hands. “Maybe I’ll be bored out of my mind and rush back after a week.”

Trevor gets up and comes over to hug me. “Take all the time you need,” he says, kissing my cheek, and Francis follows next. They walk out, and I look over at Erika, who has her own tears.

“Are you crazy?” She looks at me. “I can’t do your job.”

“Oh, yes, you can,” I say to her. “Probably better than me, and who knows, maybe no one will miss me,” I say as we walk out of the conference room.

I pick up my phone and call Manning. “Hey.” He answers right away.

“Hi, there.” I try to sound chipper. “I was wondering if you were free today or tomorrow? I don’t need a lot of time. It could even be done over coffee.”

“Yeah, how about I swing by the office? I’m on my way to the rink,” he says. “See you in ten.”

I hang up the phone and wait for him. When he comes walking in ten minutes later, I get up and go to him. “Thank you so much,” I say and close the door behind him. He looks at me and takes off his baseball cap. “For coming so fast.”

“Going to be honest, I am a little scared, especially with the door being closed.” He laughs nervously as he sits down on the couch.

“Everything is fine,” I say, sitting down. “I mean, it’s going to be fine.”

“Are you dying?” he asks, the worry all over his face, and I laugh loud.

“I’m not dying,” I say, “but I am leaving.” He just looks at me. “I’m taking a sabbatical, and I don’t know for how long.”

“Fuck,” Manning says. “I told Nico I would fuck him up.” I shake my head.

“Please don’t do that,” I say. “It’s really a me thing.”

“What can I do?” he asks sincerely. “How can I help?”

“Right now, I’m coming to terms with being in love and not being able to do anything about it,” I say honestly, “and I’m tired of being sad and mad. I think I need to get away.”

“You need to eat, pray, love,” he says, shaking his head, and for the first time in a long time, I laugh so much my stomach hurts.

I hug him goodbye and walk back to my desk. Picking up my phone, I call Francis. “What is the nicest beach you’ve been to?”

“Thailand,” he says. “You aren’t going to Thailand alone, so Turks and Caicos.”

“I can go to Thailand by myself,” I say, “but I’m not going to because I like Turks.” I hang up the phone with him, and in a matter of an hour, I have a villa booked in Turks. That night, I pack my stuff.

“Hey,” Erika says, poking her head into my office. “Are you ready to go over the email?” she asks. She has hit the ground running. I’ve told Manning, Miller, and Ralph as well as some others.

“I have it all written,” I say. “I am just waiting for five o’clock to press send.”

“What time does your plane leave?” Erika asks.

“Six.” I smile at her. “My bags are already packed and waiting for me at home.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing it,” she says, sitting down in one of my chairs. She is moving into her own office on Monday, and even though she didn’t want to, I put my foot down and forced her to.

“I’m doing it,” I say. My heart is a little sad I’m leaving right before the holidays, but I’m happy to be out of here. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be sinking into a hammock and listening to the water.” I wink at her. “And who knows, I could meet someone who is mending a broken heart, and we can fall madly in love.” I know I’m exaggerating, but it was fun to say.

“Okay, I’m really jealous,” she says.

“Do you want me to read the email?” I ask, and she nods her head, tears forming in her eyes again. “You act like I’m dying, and you will never see me again.”

“It’s just,” she says, “since the first day I’ve started here, you’ve been my hero and someone who I look up to every single day.”

“Aw,” I say, touched by her words. “You cannot make me cry.” I raise my hand. “I do enough of that shit on my own,” I joke with her. I have to admit, it’s becoming less and less frequent, and I thought that was a good thing, but the pain in my chest lingers, and some days, the pain feels like an actual stab wound.