Page 19 of After Everything
"We've had to scramble to find replacement co-counsel," she continued. "Elliot Webb's firm has agreed to step in, but they're demanding a larger percentage of the fees to compensate for the shorttimeline. We're losing money on this case now. Money we'd already budgeted for, already counted on."
"I'm sorry," I said. My voice sounded small. "I never meant for?—"
"What did you mean for, David?" Olson leaned back in his chair. "When you started an affair with co-counsel on the firm's most important case, what exactly did you think would happen? That no one would find out? That it wouldn't matter? That your marriage and your career and this firm's reputation were all worth risking for a couple of months in hotel rooms?"
Five months. It had been five months. But I didn't correct him.
I had no defense. Nothing I could say that would make this better. So I said nothing.
"Your partnership review was scheduled for October," Margaret said. She said it past tense. "Obviously, that's no longer happening."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I'd known it was coming—of course I'dknown—but hearing it said out loud made it real.
"We've discussed your options," Richard said. "And frankly, you're lucky to have any. If this were solely up to me, you'd be terminated immediately. The liability you've created for this firm, the reputational damage alone?—"
"However," Margaret interrupted, and I looked up at her, desperate for whatever lifeline she might throw. "James has convinced us to offer you an alternative."
James Olson folded his hands on the table. "You'll be removed from partnership track effective immediately. Your title will revert to junior associate. Your billable rate will be adjusted accordingly, as will your compensation. You'll be assigned to document review and contract work for the foreseeable future. No client-facing work. No depositions. No court appearances."
Junior associate. The title I'd had five years ago, fresh out of law school. Before I'd worked my way up, before the late nights and the victories and the promises of partnership.
"For how long?" I asked.
"Indefinitely." Margaret's voice was flat. "We'll reassess in a year. Maybe two. If you manage to rebuild trust, demonstrate better judgment, prove that this was an aberration and not a pattern… Then we'll discuss your future here."
A year. Two years. Starting over from the bottom while everyone in the firm knew exactly why I'd fallen.
"The alternative," Richard said, "is resignation. Effective immediately. We'll provide a neutral reference: nothing positive, nothing negative. Simply confirm your dates of employment. You'll be free to find work elsewhere, assuming anyone will hire you after this."
I looked between the three of them. Margaret, who'd mentored me. Richard, whose respect I'd worked years to earn. James Olson, who I'd wanted to impress, to be worthy of having my name on the letterhead someday.
They were giving me a choice. Stay and be humiliated, stripped of everything I'd built. Or leave and start over somewhereelse, with a reputation that would follow me everywhere.
"I need time to think," I said.
"You have until end of business today," Margaret said. "If you choose to stay, you'll be reassigned tomorrow morning. If you choose to leave, we'll need your resignation letter by five PM."
She closed the folder in front of her. The meeting was over.
I stood on shaking legs. Walked to the door. My hand was on the handle when Olson spoke again.
"David."
I turned.
"I remember when you first joined the firm," he said. His voice wasn't angry anymore. Just tired. Disappointed. "You'd just moved to the city. You came to that reception, brought your wife. Emma, wasn't it?"
I nodded. My throat was too tight to speak.
"You told me she'd given up medical school to move here with you. That she'd turned down her acceptance so you could take this position." He paused. "You said youwere going to make it worth it. That you were going to build something she could be proud of."
The memory hit me. I'd been so eager that night, so full of ambition. Emma had been by my side in a blue dress, smiling, supportive. I'd introduced her to everyone. Told them how lucky I was.
"I hope it was worth it," James said quietly.
Then he looked away, and I knew I was dismissed.
Six weeks later,I sat in a conference room that wasn't mine, in a building I'd never been to before, staring at papers that would end my marriage.
