At lunch, Petty finally decided to come clean. She set down her chopsticks and looked at Hans. “I quit my job. Tomorrow I’ll go in and fill out the paperwork.”
Hans was in the middle of serving her some food, the table crowded with all her favorites. His hand froze for a split second, then he looked up at her, lips pressed together.
He gripped his chopsticks a little tighter and kept eating. “So, you’re planning to leave Cabinda, huh?”
Petty couldn’t help it—she was always amazed by how well Hans understood her. He just knew. No need for extra explanations.
She nodded. “Yeah. I want a fresh start, someplace new.”
Hans didn’t ask anything else. “I’ll help you find a good place. I could buy a house ahead of time, so it’ll be waiting for you when you get there.”
Petty shook her head. “That’s okay. I already know where I want to go.”
Hans felt a heaviness in his chest. So she’d even chosen her next destination. She must have been thinking about leaving for a while now.
He stayed quiet, and Petty felt a wave of guilt wash over her.
She picked up some food and dropped it into his bowl. “Don’t be mad, okay? I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I’ve already asked someone to check out a place for me—it’s got two bedrooms. One for you, one for me.”
Hans’s face relaxed a little and he pretended to sulk. “At least you didn’t forget about me. You actually have a conscience.”
Petty didn’t mention anything about Franco, and neither did Hans. Right now, Franco felt like a total stranger.
…
The next morning, Petty headed over to the TV station to finish her resignation. Maybe someone in management had stepped in for her, because everything went super smoothly.
She packed up her things and even had time to rush back and have lunch with Hans.
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