Moment

It was time; she had felt the moment moving restlessly around outside, nervously looking in through the windows of the house and getting closer. The moment wandered to and fro out there, talking to itself (talking about itself to itself and being hard on itself), but the circles it walked in were getting smaller, tighter, and closer to the front door. She had tried not to obsess over it, and distracted herself with other things - pumping up the drama in other areas of her life so that she had a reason to look away. But the time was coming and, pretty soon, it would arrive (expecting her to host it until she did what needed doing). She walked into the office (resolved) and sat down (relieved), remembering back to when the moment had shown up on the porch (at long last) and rung the doorbell. She'd opened a bottle of wine for the two of them, because ... well, they were both exhausted. The letter was handed in, appreciation was appropriately shows for the element of surprise, letters were dotted and crossed, and the timeline was set. "No issues," she said with a smile. "I just ... fell out of love a bit ago and there's no point faffing about." The person in HR laughed about the falling out of love (they didn't hear stuff like that every day), but the laughter just confirmed the rightness. By the time she returned home, the moment was officially gone and the energy in the empty guest room felt light and free.