It started with a text that made my stomach churn.
Dom: Hey, I have to tell you about something Seth just pulled. Surprise baby shower at work—basically tried to humiliate me in front of the hospital board. I’m fine, but it was a fiasco.
Reading those words, a bitter taste filled my mouth. Even without the details, I got the gist. Seth had gone out of his way to sabotage Dom’s reputation under the guise of “celebrating” the twins. That absolute asshole.
So, this was to be the new normal. Dom part of hospital politics, Leo despising him, everything falling on him all at once…because of me.
Tension spiked as I typed my reply.
Me: Are you okay? That’s insane.
Dom: I’m fine. Just pissed off. We’ll talk soon.
We’ll talk soon. The same line I’d heard for weeks. The phone trembled in my hand, my heartbeat pounding a frantic rhythm. I glanced at the twins, both fast asleep in their bassinets.
They’re so innocent. They don’t know their father’s fighting a war at work because of me.
I rose from my couch, setting my phone aside, mind whirling. He wanted that admin position so badly. He wanted it to be able to do more good in the world. And now Seth was using fatherhood to drag him down. Guilt gnawed at my chest.
Is it worth it for him to have me in his life if he’s going to lose everything that he cares about?
A cold pit formed in my stomach. By Dom’s own admission, his son was shutting him out entirely, furious at the entire situation, me included. The last thing Dom needed was to lose the only sliver of hope he had left with his kids. If I stayed, that’s exactly what would happen.
My eyes drifted to the twins again, heartbreak blooming in my chest. I loved them, and I loved Dom. I had to fight for us, didn’t I? But I remembered the meltdown Dom described, the pain in his voice when he first mentioned the fallout with Leo. If I truly loved him, wouldn’t I free him from the load? Fear wrapped around me like a cold chain, dragging me down beneath the waves of my self-loathing.
If we keep going, and in a year or two when he realizes it’s too much, he’ll bail.
Then, the twins and I would be devastated, left on our own again. The heartbreak would eat us alive.
Better a clean break now, before we all get further entangled.
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I pushed them back, refusing to drown in self-pity. I’m a chef, I’m a mother, I can handle this on my own. My girls won’t remember him. They’re too young for that. We’d managed before he came along, albeit barely. But I had a better handle on things now. I took a breath, steeling myself, and grabbed my laptop off the side table.
Time to do something irreversible.
I opened my email, checking on my contacts in Chicago. Dom had mentioned his company’s headquarters were there, but ironically, he was never around, which meant he’d never find us there, hiding in plain sight. Plus, I had a sister in the suburbs I hadn’t spoken to in years, but maybe we could mend things.
I’d already looked for apartments before and saved all the ones I liked. It was a big city but cheaper than Manhattan if you knew where to look.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my heart pounding. Am I really doing this?
The twins let out a soft coo in their sleep, reminding me I had to keep them safe. I had to do the same for Dom. He was in danger of losing his job, his relationship with Leo was precarious, and I was the catalyst. A fresh wave of determination flared.
Yes, I’m doing this.
I typed a quick message to a couple of restaurants. I described my experience, gave a brief rundown of my culinary style, omitted the personal drama, and hit send, each email feeling like a step toward a cliff’s edge.
Just as I started to open a tab to see if any of my preferred apartments were open, an unexpected ping popped into my inbox. One of the places, a mid-range yet highly rated spot called The Steel Kitchen, had replied almost instantly.
The manager wrote: You’ve got perfect timing. Our head chef just quit on us midweek after a tantrum from a rude customer. If you can start ASAP, we’d love to chat. The sooner the better.
A hollow laugh escaped me. Who quits over a bratty customer? Then again, kitchen meltdowns were more common than most folks realized. My heart raced as I typed back, expressing my eagerness to discuss details. If they’re desperate, they’ll hire me fast. That suited my plan. Less time for second-guessing.
I arranged a call, stepping away from the sleeping babies to speak quietly in the kitchen. The manager’s voice was frenetic but friendly, telling me all about the fiasco and how they needed someone unafraid of high-pressure nonsense. I half-smiled. “I’ve worked in Manhattan my whole career. High-pressure nonsense is a daily occurrence.”
I can handle anything, as long as I keep Dom from losing everything.
We agreed to terms quickly, almost too easily. The job came with a significant rate increase and a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment above the restaurant that cost a dollar per month, something about how city regulations wouldn’t allow them to let me live there for free. They cautioned the apartment was small, but it turned out to be five hundred square feet bigger than my current place. They wanted me there in a week, no time wasted. I said yes, ignoring the knots in my stomach.
With a new job and apartment settled, I stared at my phone, heart hammering. That had been almost too easy, and I didn’t expect anything else to go as smoothly.
Carrie was my next hurdle. She might be mad or not care, considering her new favorite chef wasn’t leaving, but I still owed her a conversation about my resignation.
That’s if she doesn’t fire me first.
I sent a quick text requesting a meeting. She immediately replied, telling me to come by at the end of service. Perfect. I glanced at the twins again, tears threatening. I vowed to figure everything out as I stroked their wispy hair.
Work that evening felt surreal, as if I was moving underwater. Each chop of the knife and every swirl of sauce hammered home that this was the last time I’d do this as assistant head chef at Suivante. Winner hovered around, offering suggestions that made me want to fling a spatula at her. I bit my tongue, focusing on the finality of what came next.
The truth was, her sniping would have zero impact on my future now. Once that realization struck, I just smiled and shrugged at her, ignoring her commentary. She tried a little harder to get a rise out of me by “accidentally” swapping grated ginger for grated garlic in my mise, but I caught it in time. “Does your sense of smell work, Winner?”
“Yeah, it was just an accident. Kitchen shit, you know?” She tried to play it off.
“Maybe you should get your eyes checked,” I said with as much concern as I could muster. “They’re pretty different looking. The fibers in the ginger—”
“I said it was an accident.”
“Right, well, I’m telling you how to avoid it in the future. You never know when the next accident could happen to you, if you just keep making them instead of working to avoid them.” I smiled as she stared daggers into me. “No sense in letting all my expertise go to waste just to save your ego, you know.”
Her eyes lidded into slits, anger pulsing off of her. “I know what grated ginger and garlic look like.”
“Which means that accident wasn’t an accident. Better luck next time, Loser.”
She stomped off for the freezer without another word. Now that I wasn’t worried about her bullshit or playing politics, it was easier to handle her. Too bad I hadn’t gotten to that point before now.
After service, I knocked on Carrie’s office door. She stood behind her desk, flipping through receipts with a frown. “Ella,” she said, not looking up. “Come in, shut the door.”
I obeyed, heart thudding. For a moment, she kept her eyes on the papers, then set them aside with a sigh, turning to me. “So what’s going on? Did Winner do something else to upset you? I keep telling you, she’s someone you should mentor, not someone to worry about.”
I swallowed, stepping forward. “I’m leaving. I’ve accepted another position in Chicago.”
She blinked, stunned. Then, a harsh laugh escaped her. “You’re kidding, right? You’ve got newborns. You’re just settling back in here—”
“Exactly,” I cut in, voice tight. “And it’s not working. I need a fresh start.”
Carrie’s gaze sharpened. “Is this because of Dom? Because Seth might make waves? Come on, we can handle it—”
I shook my head firmly. “It’s more than that. Look at me, Carrie. I’m juggling too much, and my kids deserve better. This job is not my safe haven anymore. You and Winner…you have a good thing going. I’m out.”
“I can’t believe you’re bailing on me. After all the accommodations, after I covered for you, let you take extra leave—”
A stab of guilt pierced me, but I swallowed it. “I appreciate everything, truly. You bent over backward for me, and I’ll never forget that. But it’s time I move on. It’s what I need to do for my family.”
Carrie’s eyes narrowed, bitterness lacing her tone. “You realize you’ll be walking into a bigger mess, right? New city, new environment, no stable connections. And Dom’s here—aren’t you two a thing?”
A pang shot through my chest. “That’s…complicated,” I managed, looking away. “He’ll be fine in Manhattan.”
She let out an exasperated huff. “Whatever. Do what you want. Seth will probably be thrilled to hear you’re breaking up with Dom. One more thing to put him off his game. Doesn’t that bug you?”
I stiffened. “I’m doing it for me and my girls. I can’t stay where everything is…I can’t stay.” No need to explain myself to anyone.
“Fine. When do you leave?”
“End of the week,” I said, forcing my chin up. “I’d appreciate your keeping it discreet until I finalize everything.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Whatever. Good luck in Chicago, Ella.” The sarcasm practically dripped.
My shoulders sagged, but I mustered a polite nod. “Thanks. I’m sorry, Carrie. Really. I know I’m leaving you in a tough spot, but Winner can handle it.”
“She’s good, yeah. But it doesn’t mean I trust her fully yet. And you’re wrong if you think you’ll find some magical fix in Chicago. Problems follow you like chewing gum on your shoe. Running away from home never solved anything.”
The remark stung. “I hope you find happiness, Carrie. I truly do.”
She looked away, tension in her jaw. “Bye,” she muttered, clearly done with this conversation.
My head was a mess when I left her office. That’s that, then. No going back now. I severed the last tie.
Outside, the air hit me with a chill that cut through my jacket. I breathed in, letting the adrenaline drain. A sense of finality loomed.
I’m leaving this place.
My mind flicked to Dom, how he’d react. Probably furious, or maybe sad, or worse…relieved. He’ll hate me short-term, but eventually he’ll realize it’s best for him.
I pictured our last conversation, how his eyes lit up when we confessed we loved each other. Tears pricked my eyes again, but I blinked them away. My current emotions didn’t matter. If Dom left me and the girls in a year’s time, I’d be devastated. The way I felt now was nothing in comparison.
When I got home, the twins were asleep, and Amanda had tidied up their bottles. She deserved a heads-up, in so far as I could manage one. I thanked her in a shaky voice, telling her there might be changes soon. She gave me a curious look but didn’t pry.
Once she left, I stood in the quiet living room, phone in hand, resisting the urge to call Dom. No. If I hear his voice, I’ll lose my resolve.
So I dropped onto the couch, stared at the faint glimmers of city light through the window, and let tears slide freely. I can do this.
I had to. Better a heartbreak now than a total catastrophe later. My daughters deserved a stable mom, not one tugged back and forth by complicated bullshit. Dom deserved a fair shot at his promotion, at repairing things with Leo, without the scandal of fathering twins with his son’s ex.
As I finally crawled into bed, I clutched my pillow, feeling the emptiness of the sheets where Dom might have been. With time, he’d understand. He might even thank me.
Morning would bring new logistics—packing, final arrangements with the Chicago restaurant, saying goodbye to the city I’d known forever. It felt like too much to handle, but I knew better. People moved all the time, even with kids. This was the right call. I was sure of it.
I just had to convince my shattering heart.
