"Sometimes, you have to choose between being lonely and being crazy."
― Anonymous

I had left his penthouse determined never to go back.

"Ms. Benton?"

I paused, stepping out of the elevator. I recognized the voice and face. Shane. He had hesitated to step into the elevator from the parking garage.

"Mr. Walsh."

I didn't allow him to question me about anything to do with my being there. He did not own the building. I did not owe him any explanation nor small talk in hopes I would divulge. I had to re-evaluate everything in my life all the way down to my inability to see things for what they were. I had choices and decisions to make. Why was I afraid to make them?

"Hey, what are you doing home three days straight? You got fired?" Mabel had asked me.

"My husband is in the hospital recovering from surgery. The company I work for understands that."

I wondered to myself when would she...

"Well, it ain't like you holding vigil by his bedside like a dutiful wife if I am standing here looking at you."

"You are asking a lot. Count your blessings, Big Bully."

"Why do you always have to throw your two cents in everything? This A B convo now C your way out."

"You are worried about Michonne being home. What does it mean when you are here too? It doesn't mean you love Micheal any less."

"A good wife would never leave her husband bedside. If she can be there, she should be there."

"A good husband would have never started an affair. He would have respected his vows. Instead, that son of yours was planning to leave Michonne."

"Well, that's a damn lie."

"When the time is right, ask that son about the woman in the car that died. There was a fatality if you took the time to read."

"What lies!" Mabel shouted at my Bigmama from across the living room.

The television was on my Bigmama favorite channel, News All Day Every Day. I had sensed my Bigmama was going to broadcast what I had shared with her eventually, and I didn't care.

What I did care about was the welfare of my children. I was surprised to see them in my office doorway with my Bigmama and Mr. Grimes coming up from behind. I was greeted with hugs and kisses. The pleasure I felt from their company flitted from motherly to confusion in successive intervals. Abigail was eight. Marty was 5. My children were excited to have found me as if I were somehow lost to them.

"How did you get here?" I asked, stunned.

"The city bus." Abigail and Marty spoke in unison.

"Bus?" I questioned. I look towards Bigmama, who found a seat at the front of my desk.

"You don't want me driving, remember?"

"But the city bus?"

"Not much different than a school bus. Only differences are, no age limit and direction."

"Bigmama..." I implored.

A part of me had realized with great dismay that the CEO was privy to just how country-sounding we were by how I referred to my elder. Similar to calling her, Granny. Slightly cringy in an office setting.

"Mommy, can we have a treat?" Marty jumped up and down impatiently.

"Bigmama said, we must ask you first." Abigail rested her head on my shoulder, looking at me with pleading eyes.

"Who has treats?"

"Him." Marty pointed.

"Your boss." Abigail clarified.

"My boss?"

Only then did Mr. Grimes speak up. "Well, Jessie isn't at her desk, and I know exactly where she stashes the office candy bowl."

I nodded. My kids squealed with excitement. "Hurry back." I had instructed. Abigail and Marty hurried Mr. Grimes to what they considered treasure on the other side of any rainbow. It was just my Bigmama and me. I noticed she had her fancy wig on that she would wear for special occasions. Coming to Go Stop was considered just that a special occasion.

"Darn shame, I walked this earth more than forty years before he was even born."

"Granny, how old do you think he is?"

"Too young either way. But boy, is that a fine man! Handsome. Courteous. Good manners. He carries himself like a man of importance. Very attractive."

"You had said that about Mike."

There was a glimmer of a knowing look I received from my Bigmama. It caused a slight increase in my self-awareness.

"I didn't see a wedding band. I bet tons of women throw themselves at him. I wonder how many office affairs he has under his belt."

I abruptly changed the subject. I had not once ever considered Rick with anyone else. I mean with the way we were together and how...I was not too fond of the suggestion nor how it began to sting as if there was some truth.

"What I want to know is how did it come about that he escorts y'all?"

"Mr. Grimes had introduced himself to us down on the first floor. He had just arrived. I guess we had entered in the wrong way due to security surrounding us. He shooed away the security. He was genuinely concerned and wanted to know who we were here to see. I said Michonne Suzanne Benton. He knew who you were right off the bat! That in of itself tells me all I need to know."

"Like what, Bigmama?" I tried to conceal my hand better.

"You aren't invisible. Working for such a large establishment and finding your footing can be a job all by itself."

"I am their only corporate attorney. Very difficult to be lost in the shuffle."

"He paid you a particular comment when Marty asked if he was the boss."

"Which was?"

"You have always been a good chess player, Michonne..."

"Damn it! I am late! I have a meeting. Stay in here. I should be no longer than maybe thirty minutes! Once I am done, I will take you home."

The moment I was exiting, Mr. Grimes had my children satisfied with the choice of candy and drink. I gave them their instruction to stay in my office, and they happily agreed by going over to Bigmama to show off their selection. There was an Obviously awkward moment between us. I needed him to step aside. It confused me for a moment when he didn't. He wore the same puzzled look as did I.

"I have a meeting," I told him.

"I know."

If he was aware of this, why wasn't he moving?

"I'm late."

"I know."

I whispered, "Will you step aside?"

What I didn't anticipate was for the meeting to last as long as it had. What I didn't expect was to find my office empty. The lights were dimmed throughout the whole eighth floor. I called my house. I was worried and slightly annoyed that a simple request could not be followed.

"How did you get home?"

"Mr. Grimes."

A/N: I will recheck for errors in the meantime. Thank you to everyone who leaves reviews and/or continue to read! I am inspired to continue when you do! Thank you!