Page 68 of Unconventionally, Elle
He met my eyes and raised his eyebrows. My Jude, my everything, had a look in his eyes I'd only seen once before. It was the summer of my senior year. Red flags materialized in my head.
"Oh my God, Jude, what's going on? Tell me." I fumbled around the couch and took a seat beside him. Even while only wearing a pair of blue-striped boxers, heat radiated from his bare body. He took a deep breath, then sent a caring look my direction.
"Elle, I . . ."
"Yes?" I prodded. The emotions of that summer resurfaced, and I felt jittery and uneasy. He sighed and shrugged.
"I got an amazing job offer," he said, "and before you ask, no, I wasn't looking."
"Oh." I relaxed a little. This wasn't terrible news. "Well, that's awesome. Congrats, babe. Why are you so upset?"
"You know I wanted to make partner here, but over the past year--maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself--I realized I'm miserable." He glanced at me with wide teary eyes. "I've been so miserable fighting about Chinese drywall and going up against oil companies. It's not rewarding to me, and I went into law to make a difference." A gentle grin graced his lips, then he continued. "One of my law school buddies in New York reached out, and his firm is looking for someone to work in contract law, specifically creative contracts and negotiations."
My eyes went wide.No.
"Elle"--he sighed again--"the offer is in New York City." He held my stare, waiting for my response. Did he expect me to be angry? Sad? Joyful? Even my brain couldn't figure out what it wanted to be in the moment.
I jumped off the couch, panicking and irrational. I don't remember what I said. I felt ice consume my body, fear flood my veins. He couldn't leave. My Jude, my love, the one I thought I'd marry.No, this can't be happening.
He stayed on the couch and listened; he didn't yell back. He didn't move. He kept his eyes fixed on me and watched as I fell apart. He never told me if he'd accepted the job or if he was moving. I'll admit, I jumped to the conclusion right away. I felt the pain in his eyes when I finally sat down and held his hands in a tight grip.
"You can't go, you can't. We're here. I'm here." My voice was beginning to crack, and he gave me a look of understanding. "I can't leave my job," I finally whispered.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you about it. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be without you. I want you to come to New York with me."
"Come with you?" I replied. "To New York City?" I had to be sure that's what I'd heard him say.
"Yes, come with me to New York. I don't want to do this without you. I don't want to let you go."
I should have felt calm, but the decision to leave felt heavy and thick in my stomach. Either I would lose Jude, again, or lose my career I'd worked so tirelessly to build. If I went to New York City, I'd have to completely start over. I'd be dependent on Jude until I found someone else to hire me. I didn't know if I could handle that loss of independence, of money, of my success. But then, could I handle the loss of my life?
Sensing I couldn't answer him immediately, he sat up and kissed me on the forehead. Then he reached for my cold hands and held them tightly against his chest.
"Think about it, Elle. Please? But just know that I want to take this job. I want to leave and take you with me."
My stomach dropped. He was seriously considering--no, accepting this job.
"Jude..." I paused; the words didn't want to come out of my mouth. "You know I can't." My chest tightened and my throat felt thick as I tried to keep my emotions bottled up for a little longer. "I'm making lots of money now, and I've worked so hard to have this life. I can't take it with me. I can't lose my independence. You know that about me. I can't mooch off you in one of the most expensive cities." My heart was racing, and every thud felt like a punch to my chest.
"Is it success if you take a Xanax every day and hardly see the people you love?" he whispered, looking down at our hands in his.
"I think so," I replied with delicacy. "I mean, obviously I wish we saw each other more, I miss us. But the Xanax is fine; it calms me down. This is what work is. It's not easy and success isn't easy."
He let out a small sigh. "I'll agree to disagree with you, my love."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to fight with him, and he wasn't forcing me to go. He was asking.
"What is it for you?" I asked curiously. "Success?"
He looked up for a second, thinking, then his warm amber eyes held me breathless. "I'm not entirely sure, but I think helping others and having more free time and less stress will be part of mine. Taking you to Europe, waking up next to you every morning, and having our coffee on a balcony. You are part of my success."
My mind was short-circuiting. "What about Ava?" I knew his mother would probably have the final say on this. She couldn't possibly be okay with this idea of moving to New York.
"I talked to her when I got the offer yesterday afternoon." He sounded so casual.
"Oh?" My eyebrows rose and I was at a loss for words.
"She supports me and thinks I should do what makes me happy." I noticed by the way he was speaking that he wanted me to support him too.
