Working.

Ollie was what most employers would call a godsend. There was no length she wouldn’t go to in order to satiate her perfectionism; going times unending with unpaid overtime and spreading her assistance across all departments. She had majored in business in college, and there was no doubt that it wasn’t perfect for her. Her performance was always off the charts; barely taking days off and burying herself solely in her work. She was a delightful person to be around as well, and she strayed away from unnecessary workplace politics, making her all the more perfect. Alas, though, just as physical perfection never lasts forever, Ollie fell into a rut, which could be attributed to one thing and one thing only: a breakup. You see, not only was she a great employee, but she was also a wonderful… fiancée! Yes, her love story had gotten that far, so one could imagine how much shock she was riddled with when her fiancé said he wanted to call off the wedding and break up with her. The words echoed in her head daily. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he had said. Ollie couldn’t have agreed more. She had done everything perfectly – always present, always supportive. What problem could she possibly have had that would be as serious as to call off the wedding? She had stepped away from the testing cakes where they stood in front of, utterly confused. “What do you mean?” she managed to stammer out after moments of silence and confusion. “You are joking. I don’t like it.” She shook her head, trying to dismiss his unprompted words. Her blood had begun to run cold as she raised an index finger in warning. He had stepped closer and she stepped back, raising her pointed finger higher and shaking her head. He had sighed. “I know I proposed and we’ve been talking about marriage, but I’m just not ready yet. I was a bit unsure at first, but now I’m certain that I don’t want this. I want… I want to explore the world. I want to be adventurous. I want to be with as many people as I’d like, and no offence but you’re kinda too prudish for an open marriage. Let’s just not continue with this, okay?”. If she was shocked before, she was definitely bewildered at this point. She could feel her hands shaking, internally cursing her panic disorder for her inability to stay calm in such a moment. “Where is all this nonsense talk coming from, Ryder? You said you yearned for me when you proposed. Yearned! Why propose if you were not sure?!” at this point, customers in the quaint little bakery had begun to pay attention to the drama that was unfolding, tuning in to the mid-day drama to fuel the excitement in their lives- not that they could tune it out anyway with how their conversation had escalated. Ryder had noticed this, and he most definitely was not pleased. His body language shifted, defensive and irritated, and he scowled. “Stop making a scene, Ollie. We don’t need people in our business.” He whisper-yelled, leaning down to look her in the eye and clasping his hand around her elbow “Then why tell me in public? During our, oh, I don’t know, wedding cake testing for a wedding we are supposed to have in 3 months? And answer my question. Where did this come from?” she had retorted, crossing her arms below her chest with her eyebrows pinched together, going to show what she felt with more subtlety. Anger, frustration- betrayal, even the most. She unfurled them, feeling restless and not knowing what to do with herself. “So a man can’t think for himself now? What do you mean where is this coming from? My heart, damn it! You act like you know it all, I swear. It pisses me off. And I can tell you wherever I feel like! You can’t control me!” Ryder forced out in a rehearsed tone, stumbling over his words. He sniffled but pinched his nose, hoping that Ollie wouldn’t notice how much it also affected him. Clearly, he had pulled off a half-decent job, as his soon to be ex-partner was too caught up in her pain to notice. Another customer gasped at his words. The occupants of the cafe all turned to look at the middle-aged woman on a solo cake date. She immediately blushed and shoved the confectionary into her mouth, waving her free hand dismissively, as though to tell them to carry on “The same way you can’t control how I respond to this bomb you’re dropping on me in public!” Ollie had yelled back, unfolding her arms and waving them around in the air. At this stage of their conversation, it was evident to everyone that they were having a heated conversation, standing in front of the baked goods. The server attending to them awkwardly excused herself to get her manager. The elderly friends sitting far back giggled, shushing each other as they craned their necks to get a better view. The taste of chocolate cake that lingered in Ollie’s mouth and the smell of freshly baked goods that wafted into her nostrils began to make her nauseous, but she still stood her ground. Ryder clenched his fists at his sides, looking away. The guilt he felt was immense, and he was barely able to mask it, wanting to look as insufferable as possible to make sure she didn’t try to dig deeper into his mind. He had just thought that he’d drop the news on her, and in the worst-case scenario she’d storm out in tears. He knew she wasn’t in the wrong per se, but he had not expected such a reaction from her. He clearly didn’t know her well enough. “How dare you treat me like this, Ryder? Are you out of your mind? Why would you not give me the courtesy of doing this properly?” She said weakly. Her face burned with embarrassment, and she suddenly became hyper-aware of the eyes following their every move. She looked around and saw people quickly averting their gazes; even trying to play off the fact that they were recording. Ollie had never felt so humiliated in her entire life. She was blindsided by a man she loved; too pained and confused to know how to react. She wondered how pathetic she looked, knees shaking as the onlookers stared with pity. Ryder noticed this but didn't say anything. He instead settled on looking at her with incredulity, feeling justified in his actions. Or at least, that's what he wanted to feel.