Maria Gabriela
When I finally dropped onto the couch in my apartment, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it with a tired hand, already bracing for another work message, but when I glanced at the screen, I saw Carolina’s name flashing.
Her text was full of exclamation points, pure excitement—classic her.
“I’ve got amazing news, bestie!”
I smiled, already wondering what could’ve gotten Carol so hyped. She always carried this bright energy into my life, and right now, I needed it more than ever. I took a breath and typed back:
“I’ve got news too, but not the good kind. What’s yours?”
I barely set the phone down before it buzzed again.
“I’m officially hired—CLT again!”
I laughed, though I couldn’t help questioning whether being “CLT” was really as wonderful as she believed. I knew how much she wanted back into the formal job market, but deep down, I wondered—was it really that great?
Before I could finish my thought, there was pounding at my door. Not knocking—straight-up pounding.
I didn’t even need to look through the peephole. I swung it open, and there she was: Carol, grinning ear to ear like only she could after a long day.
“Bestie!” she squealed, barging in without waiting for an invite. “You won’t believe it! The job is mine—I’m CLT again!”
She was glowing, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Dressed in a light jacket and dark jeans, stylish as ever even in casual mode, she spun through my living room, tossed her bag onto the armchair, and shot me that look that screamed, sit down, I need to tell you everything.
“I got your text,” I said, trying to keep up with her pace. “Now tell me everything!”
She flopped onto the couch beside me.
“I got hired at Exponencial Consulting!” she gushed, nearly breathless. “Remember that interview I was freaking out about? It went perfectly! I still can’t believe it—I’m finally back in a company that actually values its employees! Career plans, benefits, the whole package!”
Her joy spilled over, and I couldn’t help but soak it in. She deserved this, and I was genuinely happy for her. Still, a pang of worry hit me, pulling me back to my own mess.
“That’s incredible,” I said sincerely. “I’m so happy for you. You earned it.”
She held my gaze for a beat, the smile still on her face, but her eyes sharpened.
“Okay, okay, but… now spill. What’s your ‘not so good’ news?” she pressed, leaning closer, curiosity flashing. “You said you had something to tell me too.”
I sighed. No escaping. I’d known Carol long enough to know she didn’t accept half-answers.
“Well…” I started carefully, choosing my words. “I told Diego I’m resigning at the end of the month.”
Her smile vanished, replaced instantly with shock and concern.
“What?! You actually said that to his face?” She straightened on the couch, laser-focused now. “How did he react?”
“He…” I sighed again, trying to collect my thoughts. “He didn’t take it well. Honestly, he thinks I only said it because I was drinking. But I meant it. And he’s definitely not handling it. We’re supposed to talk tomorrow, and… I don’t know, I just feel awful about all of it.”
Carol shook her head, processing.
“Of course he didn’t take it well, Gabi,” she said in that way she had of cutting straight to the point. “You’re essential to him—at work and… well, you know. In his life. He’s not going to let you walk away that easily.”
I knew she was right. Hearing it out loud only made the weight of it sink deeper.
I’d spent years pouring my time, my energy, my heart into this job—and into whatever this complicated thing with Diego was. And that was the problem.
Mixing business with personal was never smart. And now I was paying for it.
“I know. But I can’t keep doing this,” I said, my voice catching. “I love my job, but… being emotionally involved with my boss is making everything harder. I need to get out before it all spirals out of control.”
Carol nodded gently.
“I get it, bestie,” she said softly. “But what do you really want? Not what you think you should do—what does your heart say?”
I stayed quiet, her words hitting harder than I wanted to admit.
What did I want?
The truth was, I didn’t know. Part of me wanted to stay, to fight for what I’d built. The other part—the cautious one—wanted to leave before everything shattered.
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll find out. One way or another.”
As we sat there, talking on my couch, I knew tomorrow everything would change.
I just didn’t know how.
And that uncertainty scared me more than anything.