Three Breakdowns A Year Was All I Was Allowed Chapter 06

Three weeks into my overseas assignment, the project ran into trouble.

The client scrapped the earlier plan at the last minute.

Everyone in the conference room was arguing.

Eventually, all eyes turned to me.

“Claire, we need a new version tonight.”

I gripped my pen. My fingertips slowly went cold.

Nathan’s words suddenly echoed in my head.

“You don’t handle pressure well.”

“You panic when something unexpected happens.”

“You won’t last long if you actually go overseas.”

My breathing went ragged.

I excused myself to the restroom.

Once I locked the door, my hands shook so badly I couldn’t even turn on the faucet.

The face staring back at me from the mirror was deathly pale.

I opened Three Ninety-Nine’s chat.

[Something went wrong.]

He asked:

[Have you solved a problem like this before?]

I paused.

[Yes.]

[Then what’s different this time?]

I stared at the mirror.

It took me a long time to reply.

[Before, I had people who believed I could do it.]

[Now nobody does.]

A few seconds later, he sent:

[Then this time, tell yourself.]

I gripped the edge of the sink.

My lips moved twice.

“I can do this.”

My voice was barely audible.

I said it again.

“I can do this.”

Back in the conference room, I took the original plan apart and reassigned everyone’s tasks.

Who would handle the client.

Who would revise the data.

Who would redo the budget.

At four in the morning, the client finally replied:

[We can move forward with this version.]

A coworker slumped over the table and gave me a thumbs-up.

“Claire, you crushed it.”

I looked down and smiled a little.

My palms were covered in sweat.

Just then, my phone lit up.

Nathan:

[I heard your project ran into trouble.]

[Come home if you can’t handle it.]

I stared at the words [can’t handle it].

They used to make me feel safe.

Now they only made me tired.

I replied: [It’s already resolved.]

A long time passed before he sent:

[Don’t push yourself just to prove a point.]

I didn’t reply again.

The next day, the company sent a company-wide email.

The project had moved into implementation ahead of schedule.

My name was listed as the project lead.

I sent Mom a screenshot.

She couldn’t make sense of the business jargon and only sent back a string of thumbs-up emojis.

Then she added: [If your brother could see this, he’d be bragging about you to everyone.]

My nose stung, and I quickly set my phone facedown on the desk.

That evening, my mother-in-law unexpectedly called.

The first thing she said was:

“When exactly are you coming home?”

“Ever since Sophie moved in, she and Nathan have been working late every night. The house is a

mess.”

I paused.

When I’d been home, she’d always said:

“If you’re home all day with nothing to do, you ought to take care of the house.”

Now that I was gone, she’d finally noticed.

Dinner didn’t heat itself up.

Clothes didn’t fold themselves.

And the lights didn’t turn themselves on for someone coming home in the middle of the night.

She was still complaining. “Sophie’s busy with her paper. What does she know about doing any of that?”

I said quietly:

“Then hire some help.”

The other end went silent.

“You used to do it all, didn’t you?”

Holding the phone, I suddenly smiled.

“That was then.””

I hung up.

Meanwhile, Nathan went into the now-empty main bedroom for the first time.

Sophie told me about this later.

My skincare products were gone.

My slippers were gone.

So was the water glass I always kept by the bed.

Only the divorce agreement and my wedding ring remained on the desk.

Beneath the ring lay the annual record his practice had sent me.

He stared at those few lines for a long time.

Then, for the first time, he read them aloud, one by one.

The room was quiet.

So quiet that nobody asked him:

“Am I telling you this for the third time?”

That was when it finally struck him.

We’d been married for four years.

All that time, I’d