Avery Weighs His Options

The unlocked front door could only mean one thing: Jack was back. I froze. I couldn’t breathe. What was I going to say to this man who, only 12 hours ago, chose to end our six year relationship. A million thoughts ran through my head.

Perhaps I’ll flee. Good idea! I’ll turn around, jump in my car and never return. Where I’ll go? Who knows? It really doesn’t matter. The good people at Walgreens can easily transfer my Xanax prescription to any one of their many locations across the country.

I don’t know, though. Chicago is my home. Although I’ve given up many things for the sake of this relationship, this city that I love shouldn’t have to be one of them.

I know. I’ll calmly and silently enter the apartment. At just the right moment—say when he gives me his dopey look and asks if I’m still upset about this morning's events—I will say, “Of course not, darling.” I’ll then grab the cast iron skillet that sits on the stovetop and whack him across the head. Repeatedly. Great idea! He won’t even know what’s hit him. Literally.

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Wait a minute. Assault is a crime. In fact, it’s a felony if I end up killing the bonehead. My nursing career, which means more to me than anything, would be over. Finished. Kaput. Although I’ve given up many things for the sake of this relationship, the career that I love is NOT going to be one of them.

I’ve got it. I’ll beg. I’ll take the blame for everything that’s ever gone wrong during our years together. I’ll grovel—on my knees even—and cry—buckets!—until he promises to take me back. That’s the ticket.

That said, such an outburst would leave me with no self-respect. Although I’ve given up many things for the sake of this relationship, should my self-respect be added to that list?

I had many options to weigh. After a moment, I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. I knew exactly what I was going to do.