I sat down.
“Northcrest is shutting down the Ridgehaven office.”
Her face changed.
“Shutting down?”
“The whole branch.”
“What does that mean for you?”
“My position is gone.”
She stared.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then:
“You got fired?”
“No.”
“The office closed.”
“That means you don’t have a job.”
“Yes.”
I reached for her hand.
“We’re okay.”
She pulled hers back.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
That was the first thing I noticed.
“We have the emergency account.”
“My severance covers several months.”
“I already have people to call tomorrow.”
Marissa stood.
“Several months?”
“That’s worst-case planning.”
“What happens after that?”
“I get another job.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
“But I have experience.”
“Who else was let go?”
“Almost everyone.”
She started pacing.
“That’s worse.”
“Why?”
“Because now all of you are competing for the same jobs.”
“Somewhat, yes.”
“Evan, our mortgage is huge.”
“We can pay it.”
“For how long?”
I stared at her.
“Marissa.”
“What?”
“You are talking like we have eleven dollars left.”
“You just lost your income.”
“I lost a job.”
“Not my ability to work.”
She crossed her arms.
“This is exactly what I was afraid of.”
That confused me.
“What?”
She immediately looked away.
“Nothing.”
“No.”
“What were you afraid of?”
Marissa walked toward the bedroom.
I followed.
She pulled our medium suitcase from the closet.
