I don't know what to do with myself anymore. The doctor's have gone over every possible conclusion; every angle has been covered. My body has failed me. I'll never bear children - never feel the small life form inside me.

I feel...I don't know what I feel. Nothing feels real. What am I doing, anyways? Writing everything down has never helped me before. This is stupid.

Hot. Cold. Burning up. Chills. I can't even remember where I am anymore.

Deep breath in. Slowly exhale. "Phil..."

A door opens and closes behind me. "Miss Grenwood, did you need something?" He murmurs behind me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Yes. I need to leave. I'm taking an extended vacation for the next two weeks. You'll take over while I'm gone." My voice tremors on the last word.

"Of course. If there is anything else you need, please let me know." He gently squeezes my shoulder.

"Just one last thing before you leave, if you would, Phil."

"Miss Grenwood?"

"Have Cynthia book me a one way flight to anywhere outside of North America. I'm not sure how long I'm going to be gone."

"Of course. I'll leave you to pack up. A company car will be waiting downstairs." Phil closes the door, silent as a whisper, and I'm still sitting at my desk.

My gold wedding band weighs even heavier against my chest more so now than ever. The divorce was so fast... oh, god. I wish there had been something I could have done! If I would have known sooner about my condition, maybe there would have been something I couldn have done to fix it, to prevent it.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Great, now I'm crying all over my desk. I rub my eyes, drying the salt-laden tears, and wipe the drops off of my desk. It's time to pick up and move on.

It's time for a new beginning.