Instead, I let the calls go to voicemail, not ready to face their questions or accusations.
Mark, on the other hand, seems unfazed.
He moves through the store with the same air of authority, issuing orders and making decisions without a care.
His confidence is unsettling, a stark contrast to my uncertainty.
Despite the tension, I find small moments of solace.
In the quiet hours before closing, when the store empties out, I sit behind the counter, letting the silence wash over me.
It’s a brief respite, a moment to gather my thoughts before heading home to another silent dinner.
The anticipation of the meeting is a shadow that follows me everywhere, looming larger with each passing day.
I know I can’t avoid it, and yet, the thought of facing it makes me feel even smaller.
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