I walked in and the door to the office slammed shut behind me, the sound loud enough that I flinched.
Wyatt stood behind his desk, his hands clenched into fists. He didn't sit. Instead, he opened a drawer, pulled out a stack of photos, and slammed them onto the desk.
"What is this, Marietta?" Wyatt's voice cut through the air like a whip. He held out a tablet in his hand. His face was tight, his jaw clenched. The lines on his forehead were deeper than usual, his eyes glaring at me.
I stood still, my heart pounded in my chest. My hands tightened around the strap of my bag as I stared at him.
"What… what do you mean?" my voice barely above a whisper as I stepped closer, my breath caught in my throat and I stared at the pictures.
The photos were all about me at the bar last night. My arms around the stranger. His hand on my waist. One photo showed us kissing, our faces close, the lighting dim and it was all intimate.
"You still don't understand?" His voice was sharp.
"I… I can explain," I stammered, my voice trembled.
Wyatt's lips curled into a grimace. He slammed the tablet down on his desk, making it rattle. He spun it around so I could see the screen. "Explain this! Single Mom at Ashbourne Enterprise Spotted in Club Romp: Ends Night in Luxury Hotel, From Desk Duty to Hotel Lobby, Private Assistant or Party Queen? Ashbourne Employee Sparks Outrage with Club Photos, A Single Mom's Misstep: How Ashborne's PA Tarnished the Company Name."
I opened my mouth to speak but no word came out. All I did was pray silently that the ground would open and swallow me up.
"These are all headlines about you" Wyatt crossed his arms, his face cold. "Can you explain why my personal assistant was throwing herself at some man in a club? Can you explain why those photos are now all over the internet?"
"I…this is…" I stumbled over my words, my voice not audible. "This is from last night."
"These pictures," Wyatt slumped on his chair and leaned back, his jaw tight. "are everywhere. Online. In forums. On social media. Do you know how many emails I've received this morning about you?"
I couldn't breathe, my chest felt tight, and my head spun as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
"This has nothing to do with the company. It's my private life." I insisted.
Wyatt raised a hand, cutting me off. "Your private life?" He stood up, stepped around the desk, his polished shoes clicked against the floor. "When your face is splashed all over the internet, it stops being private. You've damaged this company's image, Marietta. Do you understand that?"
He stood, turned around the desk and stopped in front of me, crossing his arms. "I hired you because I took pity on you. A single mother, barely making ends meet. And this is how you repay me? By tainting my company's reputation? By involving my company's name in your scandal?"
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back. A single mother…it has always been!
"I've given everything to this job," I said quietly. "I've worked late nights, skipped dinners with my daughter, done everything you've ever asked of me."
He twirled around, slammed his hands on the desk. "I gave you a chance when no one else would. I can't have my employees rubbing themselves all over strange men in bars."
"I'm sorry. I'll fix this." I fell to my knees.
I desperately needed this job.
"You're fired, Marietta." He hissed. "Pack your things and get out. Take your sorry and fix the dinners you missed with your daughter."
I reached down, picked up my bag, and slung it over my shoulder and walked out of the office.
The hallway felt longer, people turned to look as I passed, their whispers followed me like shadows. I kept my head high, my steps steady, even though my legs felt like they would fail me.
I pushed open the door to my small office, my desk was still piled with neatly stacked files, my favorite green coffee mug sat untouched, and the framed photo of Isla smiled at me from the corner.
I packed the last of my things—a few pens, my notebook, my laptop, a small potted plant Ryan had gifted me. When the box was full, I looked around the office one last time. The desk was empty now, the shelves bare. It was as if I had never been there at all.
I picked up the box, holding it tightly against my chest. By the time I reached the elevator, my chest was tight again. I pressed the button, watching the numbers light up as the elevator climbed to my floor. When the doors opened, I stepped inside and leaned against the wall.
The moment the doors closed, my shoulders sagged. I buried my face in my hands, taking deep, shaky breaths.
The ride home was quiet. The bus jolted with every bump in the road, but I barely noticed. I sat near the back, staring out the window, my thoughts a mess.
I clutched my bag tightly in my lap, my knuckles white. Everything I had worked for, gone. The steady paycheck, the chance to provide for Isla. How was I going to fix this?
I reached for my keys at the entrance of the staircases when something caught my eyes. I hesitated, then headed to the mailbox.
The mailbox door was loose, and the paint on it was almost completely gone. I pulled it open and reached inside, pulling out a small stack of mail.
As I flipped through the envelopes, one caught my attention. The words URGENT NOTICE were stamped in red across the front.
My heart sank as I opened it, my hands trembling. The letter inside was an eviction notice.
I stared at the paper, my eyes darted over the words. I had fourteen days to leave. Fourteen days to find somewhere else for me and Isla to live.
My knees felt weak, and I leaned against the wall. How could this be happening? How could everything fall apart all at once?