Influenced by Eva Robinson (love story books to read .TXT) 📕

walking around Cambridge. So… you know… this is why we have to make time for crises.”

Hannah swallowed hard.

Hugo had done this before. It was a power tactic. Do what I say, or I’ll get you in trouble.

Hannah’s mind started to go blank, fragmenting. She couldn’t figure out which situation to handle first.

Jerry stared at her over the rims of his glasses. “Is something going on at home, Hannah? It must not be easy being a single mom.”

Go away. Go. Away. “Just a toddler sleep regression. I have everything under control.” But she could feel the panic rising. “I’ve never been late to a meeting, or late with a report. However, we have only half the number of psychologists we’re supposed to have.”

“The last one seemed to do fine with the caseload. Here at Woodhurst Charter Schools, we strive for excellence through hard work.”

The last psychologist had lasted a year. They all lasted a year.

Jerry grimaced, holding up his cell phone and shaking it a little. “It’s just, I’ve been getting a lot of calls.”

Her skin seemed hot and cold at the same time. “Is this really the best use of our time right now, Jerry?” It came out sounding sharp and angry.

She’d been an idiot not to hold out for a job in the public schools.

“You should send Hugo’s mom the report.”

At that, Hannah’s mind seemed to go blank, like white noise was playing over her thoughts. She felt herself rise, her hands shaking. Then a high-pitched noise started threading through the buzz. It was like she was watching from an outside perspective as she snatched her jacket and bag. From a far distance, she heard herself say, “Find a new psychologist.”

She couldn’t hear what Jerry was saying in response over that piercing noise. She only knew that she was walking to the door, down the corridor, and that she’d never come back—even if it meant she’d just completely ruined her career for good.

Four

Hannah stood at her kitchen table chopping spring onions, wondering if this day would have gone differently if she’d had the foresight to eat breakfast.

Normally, her cozy little apartment was her refuge. Dark wood floors, sleek grey-white tile on the kitchen walls, white cabinets. She’d hung little twinkling white lights around the doorways so it looked cheerful at night.

During the day, Nora tottered around cheerfully pointing at things. “That’s a spoon! That’s not an apple. That’s a banana!” Before bed, they had stories. Every picture was a revelation to Nora. “That’s a ladybug! That’s a hippo!” Her excitement was infectious.

But right now, this cozy home felt something like a prison.

No, it was worse than that.

For some reason, Hannah had a vague sense that someone was trying to mess with her life. To ruin it. But how could that be? She was the one who had chosen to quit her job. She had no one else to blame.

One thing at a time, Hannah. First, she was going to make herself an omelet, and then rethink the situation with a full stomach. She yanked open the fridge door, then pulled out a bag of spinach, eggs, and Gruyère. The familiar routine of preparing a meal was helping to smother some of her panic.

Hannah cracked three eggs into a bowl, then whisked them and tried not to think about her student loans or the rent that was due. She’d found Hugo’s results at home, but it was too late. It seemed Jerry had been just waiting for the opportunity to give her job to one of his wife’s friends from Pilates.

Hannah poured the beaten eggs into the pan, silently cursing herself for screwing this up. While the omelet cooked, she gripped the spatula with a ferocity that she feared might dent it.

One thing at a time. That was what she always told her students. Break it all up, tackle one thing at a time.

What would she advise one of her students? Make a plan.

She slid the omelet onto a plate. She’d have to enjoy it, because soon she’d be on the value brand cheese.

As she ate, she looked up at the little family photo of her, Nora, and Luke standing in a park in Concord. She and Nora were looking directly into each other’s eyes, both smiling. They weren’t exactly a real family, but it was the closest she had.

Nora had been the result of a one-night stand with her best friend, Luke. They’d known each other since undergrad at BU. She’d always just been one of the guys. Then, one drunken Saturday after a night of dancing, they’d accidentally created another human while listening to Daft Punk in Luke’s apartment.

Throughout the pregnancy, she’d been sure it was the biggest mistake of her life. But as soon as Nora was born, that changed. She never regretted Nora—not even through her recovery from the birth, or the screaming colic phase, or the sleep regressions. To Hannah, Nora was a complete delight, and she was always happiest with her daughter in her arms.

But she did regret one thing. A year ago, Luke had asked her if they might be more than friends. Specifically, he’d asked her if she wanted to be his date to some Harvard function. She’d told him no. And that was the part she was starting to regret. She’d just been so worn out at the time, and she’d felt so unsexy, that romance seemed off the table.

She took another bite of the omelet. Perfectly salted and with just the right amount of cheese, it practically melted in her mouth.

Luke was still her closest friend, the person she went to in all her moments of panic. She sometimes wondered if she was losing her mind completely, and Luke always reassured her.

She pulled out her phone to call him.

He picked up after three rings. “Hannah!”

“Hey, Luke. Are you busy?”

“Just working. What’s up? Is Nora okay?”

“Nora’s fine.” She felt her eyes sting. She was always so close to tears these days, especially when someone made her feel comforted. “Not sleeping