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Lauren shook her head. “You know what? I’m glad we’re on a break, Charlie. You never make time for me.”
Charlie sighed. This was how their fights would start, and that was not something he wanted. “I’m trying. I came to lunch with you, didn’t I?”
“You’re not trying hard enough.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that. He didn’t have anything else to give.
“You know what? Fine. If you’re not going to put in the effort, then I don’t have to stay. Enjoy your lunch, Charlie. I’ll enjoy mine elsewhere.” She stood and walked away. When she got near the door, she paused, waiting for him to come after her.
But Charlie didn’t have it in him to stop her. He was tired from only one lunch with her.
When he didn’t move, Lauren rolled her eyes and left the building.
She wasn’t always like this. She used to make him feel like the best boyfriend in the world, but ever since college, and the subsequent stress of being a lawyer set in, she had lost a bit of herself. Now, more often than not, Charlie didn’t even want to be around her.
But they had been together since high school. He loved her - or at least in the way he could. That was why he stayed, right?
This wouldn’t last forever anyways. She would be mad for a while, stay away for a few weeks, and then reach back out when she was ready.
He could apologize then.
Charlie finished his food quickly and got back to his desk to continue work. He was trying not to let Lauren’s attitude at lunch get to him, but when he almost cursed out loud at one of his coworkers terrible coding, he knew he was going to have a long, frustrating day.
Damn it. Lauren should have picked any other day to be mad at him.
~
Violet
Violet always began her morning with coffee and yoga. She got up early to get her daily practice in. Then she would have her usual breakfast with coffee, put on a tiny bit of makeup and whatever dress she laid out the night before, and then rush out of the door for work.
Her routine, if you could call it that, was the one thing keeping her sane. Her students sometimes pushed her to her limits, and her minimal amounts of exercise helped with keeping her head on her throughout the day.
Violet worked at a middle school on the South side of the city. She didn’t get paid a lot, but it was enough for her to have her apartment, her car note, and a little bit of savings. Her job was hard work, and she often worked more than 40 hours a week, only to see so little pay. She loved working with students, though and seeing them grow almost made it all worth it.
This particular morning, however, was off to a bad start. Violet woke up to a text from her mother, sent at 5 AM, linking an article about teachers and how they developed depression.
It was no secret Nancy Moore hated Violet’s job. The plan was for Violet to go the grad school, but her essay she was going to use with her application was torn apart by none other than Charlie himself - back when she had any semblance of trust with him. His cruel rebuttal of every part of her essay made her question her decision, and she took a few extra credit hours to become a teacher rather than go to grad school.
Her mom never forgot.
These days, Violet always heard how beneath her teaching was. It didn’t help that every other person Violet knew made way more than she did and could afford life inside Nashville’s expensive city limits.
Violet barely scraped by, but she lived in a terrible neighborhood no one wanted to visit, and her apartment was barely livable. She had the oldest car with the most miles and had the hardest time finding the money to go out with her friends.
And yet she put in as many hours as everyone else did.
But Violet was also good at her job. She loved her students and the summers off were nice. She just wished she could afford a decent life on top of it.
Violet ignored her mother’s text and continued with her routine. Sure, her mom would reach out again in the next few days, but Violet would be prepared for it, and she would be able to ignore the crushing weight of her mother’s disappointment.
She worked at a medium sized middle school, where nearby kids from the community would filter in and out as they moved through their grades. It was the nicer side of town, with older houses she’d never be able to afford. Some mornings when Violet drove in, she imagined what it would be like to live in one of the beautiful homes in the neighborhood.
Violet always parked on the side of the school and would walk to her small classroom. It was well decorated because she wanted to at least give her students something interesting to look at, even if she spent all her money doing it.
Right as she walked through the doors, she ran into the principal and her boss, Dr. Jones. He was an old man, with thin, white hair. He always wore thick mittens in the winter, and he had on his trademark gray windbreaker.
Dr. Jones had been doing this so long that no one dared say anything to him about looking more professional. Violet was still a newbie by most teacher’s standards, even though she had lasted longer than any of the other teachers brought on in her year. She didn’t get the dressing down privileges until at least year ten.
