As I trudged into the office, my feet heavy with the weight of my personal struggles, I made a beeline for my boss's office. The door swung open, and I exchanged a somber greeting with Mr. Jenkins, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Good morning, James. Please, come in," he said, his voice laced with a hint of empathy.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation ahead. "Good morning, sir," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Jenkins leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he gestured for me to take a seat. "Last night's meeting with Mr. Blackstone was very eye-opening," he began, his tone measured.
I knew this conversation was inevitable, but I didn't think now was the perfect time. My personal life was in shambles, and I was still reeling from the aftermath. The memory of Lily's disappointed face and Emily's tears still lingered, like an open wound.
"Yeah, Boss, might've been eye-opening for you, but a total disaster for me," I replied, my voice laced with despair, the words tumbling out like a confession.
Mr. Jenkins's expression turned sympathetic, his eyes filled with concern. "Please, James, sit down. Tell me what's going on," he encouraged, his voice gentle, like a soothing balm.
I sank into the chair opposite him, the wooden table separating us like a chasm, a physical barrier between my personal and professional life. I took a deep breath, the words spilling out like a torrent.
"Sir, I...I don't know where to start. I got home late, missed my daughter's birthday. My wife and kids...they're gone. They say I no longer care about them. That I'm always absent, always putting work first."
Mr. Jenkins's eyes widened, concern etched on his face like a deep crease. "Oh, James, I'm so sorry. What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with empathy.
I shook my head, feeling like I was reliving the nightmare. "I was stuck at work, the presentation you made me have with you and Mr Blackstone. I promised Lily I'd be there, but...but I failed her. And Emily...she's had enough. She says I'm always missing important moments, always prioritizing work over family."
Mr. Jenkins leaned forward, his voice filled with understanding. "James, we've all been there. Work-life balance is tough. But maybe this is a wake-up call. We can work together to find a solution."
I sighed, feeling a glimmer of hope, like a ray of sunlight piercing the darkness. "I don't know, sir. I feel like I've lost everything that truly matters. My family, my relationships...it's all falling apart."
Mr. Jenkins nodded, his expression resolute. "We'll get through this, James. You've to work on finding a balance, prioritizing your family and your well-being. You'll figure it out, I believe you can."
I seized the opportunity, taking a deep breath before speaking, my voice laced with determination. "Sir, I've been thinking...I'd like to request my vacation period. I haven't used it yet, and I think I need some time off to recharge and refocus."
Mr. Jenkins raised an eyebrow, intrigued, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "How long were you thinking, James?"
I hesitated, unsure of how much time I truly needed. "Two weeks, but I was wondering if I could make it three. I need to...fight for my marriage, sir. I've been neglecting my family, and I don't want to lose them."
Mr. Jenkins stood up, pacing around his office, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He stopped at the window, gazing out at the city skyline, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he turned to me, his eyes piercing. "Three weeks? Do you think that's enough time to resolve your issues, James?"
I felt a surge of gratitude for his concern. "Uh, yes, sir. I think so. I just need some time to...regroup, recharge, and figure out how to mend my relationships."
Mr. Jenkins nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "Why don't we make it twelve months? And when those twelve months expire, we'll renew it for another twelve months...and another."
I was confused, unsure where this was going. "Are you suggesting I take three years off, sir?"
Mr. Jenkins chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Three years? No, no, James! Let's go nuts! Ten years! We'll make it ten years!"
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, crushing me. He wasn't offering me a vacation; he was firing me. The room began to spin, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty.
"Ten years?" I repeated, stunned, my voice barely above a whisper. "Sir, I think I understand what's happening here."
Mr. Jenkins's expression turned serious, his voice gentle, yet firm. "James, you need to take care of yourself, your family. We'll take care of the paperwork. Consider it a...permanent vacation."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, my mind reeling with questions and doubts. "I...I don't know what to say, sir."
Mr. Jenkins walked around his desk, placing a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Say you'll take care of yourself, James. That's all that matters. Your family needs you, and you need them. Go, be with them, and don't look back."
As I left his office, I felt a mix of emotions: shock, sadness, but also a glimmer of hope. Maybe this was the wake-up call I needed. Maybe this was the chance to rediscover my priorities, to fight for my marriage and my family. The uncertainty was daunting, but I knew I had to embrace it, to find a new path forward.
I wasn't expecting this, I wasn't expecting Mr Jenkins to let me go permanently, I was one of his best employees, why would he fire me?, I knew he wasn't impressed about last night, but firing me, I never saw that coming, I never knew he was this wicked and heartless, all I needed was the vacation period which I never took all this while, but now, I've lost both my family and my work.